


Co-Sominating

by LaBelleetlaloup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Knotting, Mostly Gen, Multi, POV Derek Hale, Peter flirts with Melissa, Pining, Sort of a Pack Fic, except the last chapter which is what the rating is for, mention of Allydia, mention of Berica, mention of Scallison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3856474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleetlaloup/pseuds/LaBelleetlaloup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5+1 trope-Five times Derek and Stiles shared a bed (or sleeping area) and one time they had sex. Up until the last chapter, I personally think it's pretty innocent. Derek pines a little because Stiles is underage. She has her 18th birthday just before the last chapter takes place, so no underage. Lots of pack interactions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(Thurs.-Wed.) January 20-26, 2011 (beginning of season one/waning full moon)

If Derek had thought that nothing would be more awkward than Stiles taking advantage of the blood on his shirt to force him into an impromptu strip tease to lure Danny into hacking for them, he had been highly mistaken. When it was time for bed, Derek found a huge flaw in the plan. They both realized it at the exact same time: where would he sleep?

“Well…” Stiles sighed, “I can’t get out the camp bed or a sleeping bag or make a blanket nest without my dad asking questions in the morning. So, I’ve got the floor, the desk chair… I’m not giving up my bed.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to give up your bed,” Derek replied. “You are helping me.” As much as he wished he were here under non-fugitive circumstances.

“Hey, don’t make faces, you came to me, you know. If you wanted better sleeping arrangements, you could have tried Scott. His mother is a nurse. You know, not the sheriff?”

“Stiles, we both know Scott doesn’t trust me,” Derek sighed. “He really wasn’t an option.”

“I know,” Stiles nodded. Her expression fell for the barest moment before she pasted a smile back on her face.

“Wolves can read chemo-signals,” Derek commented. “Don’t bother smiling on my account.” Stiles’ eyes flicked to his, shock covering her face. It was real, at least. Then her eyes narrowed. She was considering something. “I can sleep on the floor. It’ll be easiest for me to sneak out the window if your dad starts to come in.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a couple of steps forward, “How clearly can you read them? Is it a scent?”

“Yeah, all chemo-signals have a specific scent because they have a specific chemical make-up. My uncle taught me how to differentiate them. It’s pretty common for born wolves to be taught it, at least at a basic level: sadness, joy, lust, anger… even sickness has a scent.”

“It smells like hospitals and dying lilies,” Stiles grumbled under her breath.

“Or smoke and burnt flesh and anesthesia,” Derek agreed. Stiles blanched at the reminder. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you trust me? You don’t know me any better than Scott does.” Stiles’ face went through several expressions before settling on something like determined. Derek couldn’t tell exactly what her scent meant she was feeling, given the different base scent everyone had that colored the scent of their individual emotions, but he was willing to hear out whatever her answer was.

“I was at the station the night of the fire. If there was a time to be angry, it was then. But you were just staring at your hands. Your sister was the one who was livid. She was ready to burn the town down to get your family back. I guess Peter would have looked like that too. But you’re not that kind of violent. I’ve seen you at your worst. And I went to school with Cora. I knew of you and your family when I was little. I know how you were raised: you’re a good person.”

“Oh,” Derek replied. That was good reasoning, even if she was wrong. Even though she was missing a fair amount of information: the fire had been his fault, for example. But he knew he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose, so she wasn’t wrong on that count. He just had an unfortunate habit of breaking everything he touched. His whole family was dead, except for Peter who was in a coma; Paige was dead; Kate had been the hugest mistake; now Laura was dead; and Derek was the main suspect in her murder; some poor teenager had been turned against his will in what was still Hale territory by what was probably a feral alpha; there were Hunters in his territory – Argents, no less; and Derek was dragging some innocent girl into this life.

“How many pillows do you want?” Stiles asked, blithely changing the subject.

“One’s fine,” Derek shrugged. He wasn’t going to take her pillows away.

“Want the sheet or the blanket?” she continued.

“Whichever is fine.” She was far too good a person for someone like him. “I don’t—“

“I feel bad enough about you sleeping on the floor as is,” Stiles cut him off mid-sentence. “Which would you prefer?”

“I’ve been squatting in a burnt out husk, so either is better than what I’ve had recently,” Derek admitted.

“You…” Stiles just stared at him. “As soon as this mess is cleared up, you’re getting a proper apartment. You can’t live there!”

“It wasn’t intended to be long-term,” Derek grumbled.

“Regardless!” Stiles was horrified on his behalf.

“Drop it,” Derek snarled. Stiles stumbled back, eyes wide, nodding frantically. She was scared and the scent filled the room. He drew himself back in, made himself smaller, less threatening.

“I’ll let it go; your life, your choices,” she murmured, wide eyes still trained on his face. That fear in her eyes may have been the reaction Derek knew she should have had from the first time she’d seen him, but he had spoiled himself with her fearlessness and it hurt.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he muttered awkwardly.

“I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed. Pick a pillow. Make yourself at home. If you want a different blanket, that’ll probably be easy enough to hide: they’re in the linen closet in the hall.” Stiles darted over to her dresser, yanking clothes out of two drawers before hurrying out of the room. Derek fell heavily into her desk chair, head in his hands. Why did he have to break everything? He couldn’t even keep up a friendship without acting like an animal and scaring people off. He would find somewhere better to hide out in the morning. Stiles was not going to want him around and she certainly didn’t owe him anything. It would be better to get out before she kicked him out.

Derek eventually forced himself to get up and get himself a blanket. He was always twitchy about sleeping in non-pack scents, so sleeping in Stiles’ room would probably be enough of an issue. There was a reason he had never spent the night with a one-night stand in New York. Besides, he was a fugitive and was leaving in the morning; he would need some deep sleep to be as close to full strength as possible during a new moon. He laid out his blanket and the pilfered pillow under the window, for the quickest escape route. Stiles eventually wandered back in, wearing soft cotton shorts and an old, thin shirt, smelling vaguely of flowers, warm and sleepy with her damp hair braided down her back. Derek quickly looked away. She looked domestic. That was a bad idea for his brain to focus on.

“Do you want me to try to find something old of my dad’s for you to change into? Jeans aren’t comfortable to sleep in.”

“I’ll manage,” Derek looked back over at her to give her a tight smile.

“Derek, let me help you,” she pleaded. “You need sleep in case you have to make a run for it in the morning. You may be a werewolf but everyone needs rest. You won’t sleep well in those jeans. They look uncomfortably tight to walk in, forget relax in or sleep in.” Derek jerked back as though slapped. Stiles winced, drawing into herself nervously and reeking of anxiety.

“Thank you,” Derek finally replied. Stiles nodded.

“Sweats and a shirt or just the sweats?” she asked.

“Just the sweats,” Derek shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to sleep with a shirt on, unless that makes you uncomfortable.” He hadn’t even thought about having his pants on to sleep, to be frank, but they were not related and she was definitely past puberty.

“I’m fine,” Stiles replied, a bit of pink in her cheeks as she hurried out of the room. Derek ducked his head as he bit back his smile at the innocent attraction in her scent. She was at least young and not trying to come on to him, though the chemical in her scent just cemented his decision to leave in the morning. He should not let her get attached. The Argents would eat her alive. Stiles thrust the sweat pants at him when she returned, quickly retreating and pointedly turning her back on him. Derek felt himself smiling at her chivalry, even if she had used him on Danny earlier. He quickly squirmed out of his jeans and slipped into the sweats. They were much more comfortable than his jeans had been. Stiles hadn’t been wrong about them being a little too tight for comfort.

“I’m dressed,” he told her softly. Stiles turned back around.

“I was going to mess around on the internet, but I can go ahead and turn the lights out if you want to try and get some sleep,” she offered.

“No, I’m not tired yet,” Derek agreed. Stiles gathered her computer up and got into bed. Derek settled in her desk chair and realized he had nothing to do but think. But he did have to figure out where he was going in the morning. The old house was right out, even though his clothes/car might be there and his food stash was probably untouched in the basement. It was a crime scene. He couldn’t be sure of what had happened to Peter’s old house, could have been sold or rented, and either the police or the Argents might be staking it out. He really hadn’t been here long enough to check out any of the old bolt-holes. The abandoned train car could be an option. It was doubtful the police would have it connected to the Hales, and Hunters hadn’t ever found it, so it would probably be safe enough unless he was followed. The catacombs were probably a bad idea. Derek really couldn’t remember if they had put the other exit points in, so he could end up cornered down there. All the abandoned warehouses and buildings in the industrial district were probably too close to civilization to even try with hiding from the police rather than Hunters. He felt a gaze on his face and looked over to see Stiles eyeing him speculatively.

“Did you get to see the new X-Men movie?” she asked once she noticed he had looked over. Derek shook his head. “Do you like X-Men?”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” he chuckled.

“All the people Erik’s killed?” Stiles quipped with a smirk. “Do you want to watch it? There’s a bunch of Cherik gif-sets online and I need to watch it again.”

“Cherik?” Derek asked, as he was already crossing the room. Stiles made room on the bed and Derek let himself settle in beside her.

“Charles and Erik, like a couple,” Stiles explained, starting the movie, as she had already had it queued up. Derek smiled wanly. Laura had never wanted to see Marvel movies in the theater; they had always waited to see them. So he had missed this one just the same as the others.

“They aren’t a couple?” Derek murmured as the movie began to play.

“Of course they are,” Stiles giggled softly. “Here.” She pushed her laptop over into his lap and rolled so she was leaning up against him. Derek let his arm lay out across her pillows and didn’t move her. She didn’t smell of lust or intent, just easy camaraderie.

Derek found himself missing the movie, watching her. She was obviously caught up in the movie, little smiles and sighs and her face scrunched up before something bad happened. Stiles was good and innocent, for all of her own tragedies: her mother’s death, the faint scent of whiskey that was always around her father, there had been something between her and Jackson at some point, she and Danny had been friends at some point, she was clearly the social pariah at her high school. She was loyal and trustworthy. Derek needed to get the fuck out of her life before he broke her too.

After that movie, Stiles turned on the first X-Men movie and promptly fell asleep. Derek turned the movie off, he had no great desire to watch it, and shut the laptop so she wouldn’t lose her tabs. But when he went to move off the bed, Stiles made a keening sound and grabbed at him. Derek settled back into the space he had been trying to vacate, trying to decide what to do. He ended up gently shaking her awake.

“Wassit?” she slurred.

“Let me go,” Derek answered softly.

“Warm,” she murmured, blinking sleepy eyes open. “Don’ go. I don’ wanna be col’.” Derek sighed.

“Stiles, I can’t sleep in your bed with you,” he explained.

“P’ease,” she pleaded, looking up at him from under her lashes. Derek didn’t think it was intentional, but God was it working. She blinked sleepily, pouting seemingly absently. Damn, it worked. He really did not want to upset her.

“Alright, let me get the bedding off the floor.” Derek rolled his eyes at himself. He was going to be running out in the morning on little to no sleep at all. This was a bad plan.  


“Come back?” she murmured, her eyes blinking shut.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded. He got up without any protest from her this time and grabbed up the little nest he had made under the window. He dropped the pillow back on the bed and kicked the blanket under her bed. Then he paused, wondering if it would be inappropriate for him to take his shirt off. Derek just shrugged, in for a penny, in for a pound, like he would be able to sleep anyway, and tossed his jacket over onto her chair, dropping his Henley on his jeans, before crawling into bed with Stiles. She was warm and soft and sleepy-pliant, so she rolled over at his gentle push at her shoulder so he could get comfortable. Stiles snuggled back up to him, easily dropping back off to sleep. Derek envied her that ability. He wrapped his arms around her and listened to her heartbeat, cataloguing the sound and her scent. He might as well be able to recognize it, since she kept getting stuck in the middle of this. He probably wasn’t going to get to sleep, anyway.

The next thing Derek knew, he was waking up to a terrifyingly loud sound blaring in his ear and his claws and fangs were out. Stiles startled awake and leaned over him to turn off the alarm on her phone. She groaned, half-splayed over his bare chest. Derek blinked, slowly waking up. He pulled his claws in and his fangs slid back in as well.

“Do I have to go to school?” she whined.

“Unless you can stay home sick without your father coming in to check on you,” Derek replied. Stiles startled, jerking back. She had clearly forgotten that he was there.

“Shit, that must’ve been so loud for you,” she blurted with a wince. Derek nodded.

“I’ve been woken up by a foghorn before,” he admitted. Stiles’ eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “Don’t act like you haven’t already read my file. I went to college. I had human friends.”

“Human friends who barely didn’t get clawed to shreds, I imagine,” Stiles giggled. Her eyes were shining with amusement.

“I was writhing on the floor, howling in pain, actually,” he corrected. “They almost got clawed the time they walked in on me with a girl in the shower. Thankfully, she was an illusionist, so they thought that the wolf-stuff was just some trick she had played on them.”

“Oh,” Stiles jerked back again. Derek winced. He always forgot how touchy humans were about sex, even vague references. They pretended to be liberal and chill, but really they were prudes. “What did the girl think?”

“She was raised by a druid. She thought I was a werewolf who got startled.”

“She wasn’t wrong.”

“No, she wasn’t. You should get ready for school.”

“You can go back to sleep. Dad won’t get off the night shift for another hour and I don’t think he normally checks my room when he gets home in the mornings.”

“Alright,” Derek nodded. Now that his adrenaline rush was receding, he was realizing how fucking early it was. He let his eyes drift back closed, wondering absently why he seemed confused at his actions. It couldn’t be too important. Derek drifted in and out of sleep while Stiles got ready for school and then fell back asleep once her heartbeat was out of easy hearing range.

It was only once he woke up for the second time, hearing Stiles’ father’s heartbeat slow into deep sleep, that he realized why he had been confused. Derek had fallen asleep surrounded by a not-pack scent. He had never done that in his life: never in his life. He had asked her why she trusted him, but he clearly should have been asking himself why he trusted her. Derek really wanted a shower and bacon for breakfast, but that would wake the sheriff. So he settled in to wait until Stiles got back. At least, until he looked over at the clock and saw it was only nine in the morning. Stiles wouldn’t be home until about four, at the earliest. He still had clean clothes and food squirreled away at the old house. Surely he could manage to get those while the sheriff was sleeping and sneak back in. He couldn’t leave for good without at least letting Stiles know that he was going. She would worry and get even further into this, which would be a very bad plan indeed.

Derek rolled out of bed with a quiet moan and ignored his morning wood as he shucked the sheriff’s sweat pants, pulling his clothes from the night before back on. He was not taking care of that in a teenager’s room with her father home. He spared a wry smile for the irony of the fact that it felt like sneaking out of a one-night stand’s room, or even when he had stayed too long at Paige’s house and had to hurry out without her parents realizing how late it was and he was still there. Derek easily snuck down the stairs and turned off the alarm system before hurrying out the back door, leaving it closed but unlocked. He doubted anyone would even try to rob the sheriff’s house.

No one caught him as he bolted into the woods and there was a distinct lack of human heartbeats in the woods once he felt he was deep enough that he couldn’t be seen. Derek slowed to a jog. He was probably safe, unless the Argents had learned how to hide their heartbeats. There wasn’t anyone anywhere near the old house and they had left his car alone. Derek had a duffel bag of clothes in the trunk of his car, which thankfully still had the spare key taped under the wheel well. The police had his keys and his wallet and his phone and his watch still. The food was untouched as well, hidden in a mini-fridge that had apparently survived the fire in the basement well enough to serve as an air-tight container. Derek relieved himself in the woods and bathed in the creek before changing clothes and eating. Then he guessed by the position of the sun that the sheriff might get up soon, as it was a little after noon, and stuffed his food in his duffel and his car key in his pocket before hurrying back through the woods to Stiles’ house.

By straining his hearing, Derek could tell that the sheriff was still sleeping. Derek bolted across the open backyard and let himself back in, re-locking the back door and turning the alarm system back on as he toed out of his shoes. He snuck up the stairs, carrying his shoes, and secreted himself in Stiles’ room just before the sheriff’s alarm went off. Derek let out a deep sigh of relief. The sheriff probably was going back into work and Derek was safe for a while, at least.

While the sheriff puttered around, showering, making coffee, getting ready for the day at what was apparently about two in the afternoon, Derek padded on sock feet around Stiles’ room, tidying up. He folded the sheriff’s sweats, hung up Stiles’ clean clothes as best he could understand her system and put the dirty clothes in a pile, made the bed, cleared out the stuff under the bed, hid his duffel under the bed, killed a spider trying to build a web behind her dresser, made a pile out of her dirty dishes to take downstairs once the sheriff left, added the linens to the pile of laundry to do once the sheriff left. He could at least help out a little while he was imposing. The sheriff finally left, locking up the house behind him. Derek went downstairs and ran the dishwasher and put the all the laundry in. Then he went back upstairs to try to get into Stiles’ computer and figure out a way to prove his innocence (he knew Laura had been dead before he had gotten to Beacon Hills because he’d felt it) and maybe see if he could figure out what the Argents were here for and when they had arrived. Laura hadn’t told him about anything but a “weird feeling” before she had fled New York like a bat out of hell and now she was dead. There had to be an explanation somewhere. Of course, Derek only succeeded in locking himself out of the computer and putting himself in a foul mood before the dishes and laundry were done. After he changed the clothes over to the dryer and put the dishes away, he dragged himself back upstairs, resolved to wait for Stiles. He made a list of possible bolt-holes for him to try and made a list of control exercises and possible anchors for Stiles to try with Scott before the laundry was done. He put it away before hiding back in Stiles’ room, assuming she probably had lacrosse.

He ended up flopped on the bed, his face buried in the pillow, snoring, when Stiles got home after lacrosse practice. The scent of pizza woke him up. Stiles was looking around her room in confusion, pizza rolls precarious in her hand and her book bag on the floor by her feet.

“Hey,” Derek pushed himself up off the bed.

“Did you clean my room?” she asked, finally looking over at him. She seemed to have forgotten about the pizza rolls.

“Yeah, I figured I should help out a little, since I was imposing,” he explained. “I was going to look on the internet for some way to prove that Laura was… before I got here, but your computer’s password protected.” He still couldn’t say the word out loud.

“Thanks,” Stiles nodded, moving her hand and seeming to suddenly remember the pizza rolls, as she held them out to him. “Want some?”

“Yes,” Derek nodded, scooping a handful into his mouth. He hadn’t had hot food since he’d left New York.

“Did you get lunch?” she asked.

“Yeah, I had some food stashed at the old house, and I snuck out and got it. I really wanted my clothes to change into.”

“I thought that was a different shirt,” Stiles nodded. This one was light green. The other had been gray. Derek just nodded, stealing another handful of pizza rolls. Stiles just rolled her eyes and handed him the plate.

“So, does that mean you have something pajama-like to sleep in tonight?”

“No, I packed expecting to be staying with my sister,” Derek muttered. Stiles nodded, chewing on her lip. “I was gonna leave before your dad got back anyway. I just wanted to let you know so you would know that I left by myself and not accidently hang yourself.”

“Derek!” Stiles exclaimed. “Are you going to sleep in a ditch? Your old house is a crime scene, you can’t stay at a hotel, where are you going to go?”

“We had bolt holes, werewolves, remember? There’s an abandoned train car on the other side of the preserve that no one ever found. And there’s the cabins on the Preserve, they closed all that down, right?”

“It’s still closed,” Stiles nodded, “But they stripped the cabins, it’s just whatever’s left of the walls and roof. You really want to sleep in an abandoned train car that you don’t even know what kind of condition it’s in? People never look right under their nose and you have food and heat and running water here.”

“I can’t keep dragging you into this mess, Stiles,” Derek tried not to sound condescending. “My life is just one shit-storm after another. It’s the nature of being a werewolf without an established pack. You’re human. You can walk away. It would be cruel of me not to let you.”

“Well, you’re already here and Scott’s a werewolf now. I’m in it, whether anyone likes it or not. You’re staying here.”

“You can’t tell me what to do. I was informing you of my general plans as a courtesy, not asking for permission,” Derek snapped. She was just barely not a child. She wasn’t even pack. She had no authority over him.

“Derek, think this through. You’re already here, and my dad didn’t notice all day. If you’re out on the Preserve, you’re more likely to get caught. And if you don’t have proof that you didn’t hurt your sister before they find you, they’ll say that running means you’re guilty. Stay. I’ll log on to my computer for you and you can try to find some proof of your innocence while I do my homework. We can eat a hot supper and you can get a shower if you want and sleep in a bed. Now, do you really think it’s a better plan to leave and sleep in a train car?” Derek sighed. She had a point. It was definitely more advantageous for him if he stayed. But he had been thinking about her: her emotions getting tied up in his welfare because they had been in each other’s pocket, or them getting caught and her getting in legal trouble because aiding and abetting a fugitive was illegal. There was no way to convey that to her though. Her face was set and she clearly had a stubborn streak. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Alright, but I’m not wearing sweatpants tonight, I was too hot,” Derek conceded. Stiles blinked at him, smelling startled, but she nodded too.

“Good.” She turned to the computer and logged it on, handing it to him before she started her homework. “Think about what you want for supper. We can order pizza or I think there’s family-size meals in the freezer and we have burger patties and hot dogs. Dad never does the grocery shopping so he only knows how much coffee we have.”

They dropped into companionable silence as Derek printed off his airline ticket information, showing that he could not have arrived before Laura was gone, and cyber-stalked the Argents while Stiles worked on her homework. Derek didn’t find too much on the Argents. Kate had been globe-trotting, leaving a trail of unsolved arsons and murders, but that didn’t explain what had brought her back here. Chris, his wife Victoria, and their daughter hadn’t been in one spot either, moving frequently. But they seemed to be connected more to the cease of a crime spree, so they must have been taking out feral wolves: following the code, at least. Gerard, the patriarch, appeared to be in Canada for the moment, but Derek knew that it was a short plane ride. He had only spent a few hours in the air going from one side of the country to the other. Derek looked up the Beacon Hills newspaper to see if he could pinpoint when the trespassing Alpha had arrived. It appeared to have been recently, although there was a spate of animal deaths during the full moon for the past three months. So that was interesting. Was Peter starting to come out of his coma, and if he was, would he know what happened to Laura and maybe have an idea who the alpha was?

Stiles interrupted his research when she finished her homework and they ate dinner downstairs at the table. They decided upon breakfast food. Derek made the eggs, Stiles made the bacon, the toast was in the toaster oven. It was all very domestic and Derek’s wolf was stretching and growling happily just under his skin. It was unnerving. He did not need to bond to Stiles, but he had told her he would stay and it would do him no good to be rude. Stiles finished her reading for the week while Derek checked his email and Laura’s email and sent one to the landlord back in New York that they needed the apartment to be a bit more permanently locked and the mail collected somewhere as he and Laura wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Derek hadn’t been able to do anything of the sort before he had gotten arrested and he was hoping the fact that he’d left his computer at the apartment would mean that they didn’t have a tap on his email. It was just a city police station, not the FBI.

This time, Derek left his shirt on, but took his jeans off to sleep. They watched another movie before sleeping, leaving Derek to wonder if that was Stiles’ usual routine. It became their usual routine, at any rate, though Derek was sleeping in his boxers the next night and after that. They ate dinner together after Stiles did her homework because the Sheriff was working crazy hours; they watched a movie or two; they fell asleep tangled together; Derek turned off her alarm in the morning, which was set to vibrate so he didn’t go deaf, and woke her up to get ready for school while he rolled over and went back to sleep. After a few days, Stiles just slept in Derek’s shirt and they automatically curled up together as soon as they got in bed. It was domestic and Derek’s wolf was very pleased with his new pack. Derek got showers and hot food and a warm bed to sleep in with someone beside him. He was spoiled rotten by the end of the week, and his scent had mixed with Stiles’ in her room and on each other. Stiles, of course, couldn’t figure out what was the matter with Scott, but Derek knew it was his scent on her. It would bother the boy. She showered at night and then slept in his arms and she smelled like his.

The police had finally checked his airline records by the end of the week and realized that Laura was dead long before he had arrived in San Francisco, much less taken the cab to Beacon Hills and found her body. Derek just hadn’t realized that anyone else had realized she was dead yet when he buried her. Of course, then the police had dragged him away because Scott hated him, but they ended up taking him off the list of suspects, leaving them scratching their heads about the culprit. Derek took himself back to the police station when he heard the news and got all his stuff back and a formal apology from the sheriff. Of course, Derek kept his mouth shut when they asked him where he had holed up for the week. They were led to believe it was a hidey-hole on the Preserve. He was not letting anyone know how involved Stiles had been. He owed her that.


	2. Chapter 2

(Mon.) April 2, 2011 (end of season 2/ waning new moon)

Stiles was the getaway car again. There were more hunters in town. Derek had mostly gotten over the fact that Stiles was in this, but he still didn’t like it. The pack wasn’t established or big enough to be able to protect human pack members, and Stiles was also the researcher and planner, making her irreplaceable to the pack as well as Derek. Of course, they had gotten separated from the rest of the pack, as Derek’s life normally went. Scott had gone with Allison to hide out at her house, as they seemed to be on-again, at least for the moment. Peter had Isaac and Erica and Boyd, because none of the three of them had any first-hand knowledge of him and they weren’t wary of him. Derek could feel through the pack bonds that they were back at the train car. So he and Stiles couldn’t circle back there. They would have to find a different place to lay low for the night. Maybe the old cabins? Stiles was carefully keeping her panic at bay, but she had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and Derek was focusing on controlling his heartbeat and breathing to keep from letting the scent of her panic affect him.

“Head out towards the old camping cabins,” Derek told her, keeping his tone modulated and even. Stiles took the turn and headed there.

“Are we gonna sleep in one of the cabins?” she asked quietly. Her expression was pinched.

“In the Jeep,” Derek replied, “Easier to get away if we have to. You should text your father and tell him you’re staying with someone.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded. But instead of taking her eyes off the small patch of woods illuminated by her headlights in front of her, she handed the phone to Derek. He scrolled back up through the messages she had sent to her father to get an idea of her texting style before telling her father that she was staying over at a school friend’s with Scott.

“I told him that you and Scott were staying with a friend from school you’ve been doing a project with. If he asks, say it was Boyd. His parents never know if he’s home or not.”

“Thank you.” They lapsed into silence again. Derek reached over and switched off the headlights, hearing another vehicle somewhere in the distance. Stiles just leaned forward over the steering wheel and kept driving. “I’m going to have a panic once we stop, so if someone’s followed us, you’ll have to drive from there.”

“Okay.” There was nothing else to say really. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“I know you’ll try,” she whispered. Derek knew what she meant. If they were outmatched, it didn’t matter how badly he wanted to protect her, the Hunters would have both of them. Hopefully Peter would be able to spur Lydia, and Allison, into making a plan and getting them back, focusing on Stiles’ safety, but there would be no guarantees. The Sheriff would have no leads and wouldn’t even know to start looking until he got the call that Stiles wasn’t at school and maybe not even then. They glided to a silent stop in the shadows beside one of the old cabins. Derek couldn’t hear the vehicle anymore, and it had been faint enough he couldn’t have even given a vague description. They were probably safe enough. Derek unbuckled himself while Stiles stared out the windshield. He reached over and undid her seatbelt as well. She had told him she wasn’t driving anymore, so they might as well not worry about staying buckled when they would have to exchange seats before they took off. Stiles’ side of the car was even up against the wall of a cabin, which made Derek feel better. At least, until Stiles lost control of her breathing and her heart-rate went sky-high. He practically threw himself into her seat, pulling her onto his lap so her back was against his chest, his hand on her breast bone just below her collar bone, forcing her breathing to align with his as he exaggerated the movement of his chest. Her breathing eventually slowed to a more normal rate and her heart-beat slowed to sync up with his. Derek let his head fall back in relief. Stiles melted into him, her head leaned back on his shoulder.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly. Stiles didn’t say anything to that.

“What happens if they find us?” she asked instead.

“Best scenario: Chris throws a tantrum because of you and they at least let you go, most likely scenario: Peter tries to manipulate Lydia into making a plan with Allison to rescue us by detailing what they would do to you and it either works or he comes after us himself and either succeeds or ends up strung up with us, worst scenario: Peter and Chris wash their hands of us and your father has no leads and we die of torture or get turned into the Winter Soldier and KGB!Black Widow.”

“I love Black Widow, but that would be awful,” Stiles mumbled. “Why did Scott have to be the one that got bit?”

“What do you mean?”

“I dragged him out that night. He wanted to go to bed early because of lacrosse tryouts. It was my fault he was even outside, much less in the woods. But he got bit, not me. It’s not fair. And I wouldn’t feel so helpless all the time.” 

“You aren’t helpless,” Derek growled at her. “You’re smart. That’s just as important as physical strength. If you can out-think someone, you can escape from them because they haven’t planned for your method. Besides, you’re fast and small, so you’re agile. Brute force doesn’t solve everything.”

“It can help,” Stiles mumbled. Derek just tightened his arms around her in a hug. Stiles twisted around to wrap her arms around him as best she could.

“I could pay for you to take self-defense if you think it would make you feel better,” he offered. “You know, Black Widow was only human and she was small and lithe, like you. So was Cat-Woman in some of the iterations. And a lot of the X-Men women kick ass without having any extra strength powers. You can take care of yourself if you have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“What about?” Derek was confused. He thought it was pretty clear.

“If I have to,” she echoed.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he replied with a shrug. She shouldn’t. She should be a teenager: have fun, go to parties, shop, worry about the prom and dating. Thankfully, Stiles seemed to understand.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his skin as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Derek leaned his head gently on hers.  


“You should try to get some sleep. I can’t hear anyone, but it’s best to hunker down in one place unless someone gets too close. It’s quieter and less likely to draw attention.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll sleep tomorrow. You have school.”

“You can have my bed. I know you aren’t sleeping well in the train car.”

“I was not expecting kanimas and Hunters and Peter to come back to life,” Derek grumbled. They had a long-standing disagreement about Derek’s living arrangements. Stiles thought it was stupid to have an apartment and not live in it. Derek thought being alive to live in the apartment at some point was more important and was definitely not mentioning the apartment he was still paying for back in New York. As soon as he got a weekend, he was going to fly back and settle everything, but he never even seemed to get a day. This time Stiles didn’t make it into an argument, thankfully.

“I know you weren’t. I worry about you too, you know. You’re always in so much danger and I just worry that you aren’t going to be at your best because you aren’t eating well or sleeping well and you’ll get hurt.”

“You shouldn’t worry about me,” Derek told her. “I’m an alpha werewolf. It’ll be too stressful.”

“At least you aren’t trying to lie to me and front like you can take care of yourself,” Stiles teased quietly. She was sleepy and it was catching up to her.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Derek replied. “Sleep, Stiles. I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will,” she mumbled, her words slurred against his skin. She dropped off to sleep as Derek leaned the seat back a little. Derek wriggled around and undid his belt before it started biting into her side and left a mark, tossing it in the back. Then he just cradled her, listening in the dark to her heartbeat. She didn’t deserve to have been dragged into this life, and no matter how many times he explained to himself that it was because of Scott and therefore Peter, he kept feeling like it all went back to his stupid decision to trust Kate, just like everything else in his life. Derek managed to keep himself mostly awake all night, dropping off only for short naps and waking at the first noise.

Thankfully, Stiles slept deeply until just before the sun started coming up despite his frequent startles. Derek managed to get her buckled into the passenger seat with her still half-asleep and drive her home without them getting caught by the Hunters. He was ready to tentatively say that perhaps the Hunters had gone back to wherever they were staying for the moment. Stiles was just a little sore from sleeping in cramped quarters, but pretty well-rested and got ready for school while Derek curled up in her bed, sent a text to his Betas letting them know he was safe, and fell quickly asleep.

He had been driving quickly and sunrise proper had been about quarter to seven, so they had gotten to Stiles’ house by seven and he got a good nine hours of sleep before Stiles woke him when she got home from school. Peter had sent the Betas to school, to keep from attracting attention, thankfully, and Scott had gone as well. So Stiles had checked in with everyone personally and no one had actually gotten anywhere near a Hunter all night, aside from Scott who had been hiding out with Allison while Chris probably just pretended he didn’t know. Derek was about one more ridiculous remark out of Scott’s mouth from just washing his hands of the kid and letting his unbelievable good luck either hold or run out.

Derek felt much more well-rested though and ready to figure out what in the world he needed to do about the kanima still running around, the new Hunters, Gerard having come to town, Allison seeming to start taking after her aunt, Victoria’s suicide because of someone’s bite and whatever else he had forgotten about... Erica wanted to learn to drive. Stiles wanted to be able to hold her own in a fight. Isaac and Peter both needed therapy, desperately. Scott needed a good whooping. Boyd was good, though, so that was one. Derek himself needed to be able to live in his real apartment with real furniture. It boosted self-esteem. Laura had insisted that they have, and use, real china in New York to force themselves to feel more human right after the fire, and she hadn’t been wrong about the effects of a proper den. They had both had much more positive outlooks. Derek had gotten his grades back together and gone to Columbia after he was accepted to four Ivy League schools. Laura had taken an overload of classes so she could still graduate on time and start her dream job. What Derek really needed right now was a proper den again so he would feel like a person. But that would just have to wait until it was safe, unfortunately.


	3. Chapter 3

(Fri.-Sat.) May 27-28, 2011 (between seasons 2 and 3/ waning new moon)

It was the Friday before Memorial Day and Erica and Boyd were still missing. They had been gone for almost all of April as well as all of May. Everyone had gathered at Derek’s loft for a research session and information share. Derek had washed his hands of Scott after that betrayal with Gerard, but the rest of the Beacon Hills pack was there. Jackson had brought Lydia, Isaac and Peter were already living with him, and Stiles was there with all the information she had pilfered and copied from her father.

“Okay, Stiles, what do you have?”

“There’s been disturbances in the warehouse district, shock, but no indications of squatters. Wherever the alphas are, they’re well hidden.”

“They’ve got a powerful emissary,” Peter surmised. They all nodded.

“I just really hope they don’t have Erica and Boyd,” Isaac murmured.

“They haven’t taken down the missing posters, so I don’t think either of them have contacted their parents,” Stiles replied. “But there’s always hope. They could be in that Lotus Eater hotel in Las Vegas from the Percy Jackson series.”

“Yeah,” Isaac smiled wanly. He had been closest to the two missing Betas aside from Derek.

“They’re still alive, and they aren’t too far from Beacon Hills if they aren’t still here,” Derek replied. “I don’t think they’re in Las Vegas playing casino games, as much as we wish they were for their sakes.”

“The problem here is that we’re all blind,” Peter grumbled. “We don’t know who the other wolves are or what they want.”

“Do they want Derek?” Stiles asked. Derek looked at her in confusion. Peter shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Lydia asked. Derek was grateful he didn’t have to ask the question and no one but Peter seemed to understand.

“Derek, if you don’t mind me telling them about Paige?” he asked. Derek shrugged.

“How did she die?” Stiles asked. “My parents wouldn’t let me out of the front yard for forever because it was ‘suspicious’.”

“Derek was convinced that Paige was his forever girl. Of course, usually one joins a pack by becoming a wolf, but Talia refused to bite anyone who hadn’t already finished college because it was too visible if anything went wrong.”

“But doesn’t the bite take best in teenagers?” Isaac asked.

“It does, so mom never took on any new pack members, because no one wanted to wait that long,” Derek explained.

“I convinced a lone alpha to give Paige the turning bite because she was Derek’s girlfriend, in spite of the fact that he would technically be poaching on Hale land. Unfortunately for Paige, she was in the 5% and it killed her. Besides, Talia always kept Derek apart from the others. He was assigned his role in the pack much younger than anyone but Laura, who would take over as alpha from Talia by birthright.”

“Well, Kate targeted Derek in particular for a reason, when the Hales and the Argents hadn’t broken the code in centuries. She clearly thought something was worth risking all-out war for,” Stiles added.

“Talia was always murmuring about responsibility and power when Derek was a baby,” Peter nodded. “Could be she told someone outside the pack whatever it was she didn’t trust me with and Derek’s got a reputation. I was rather out of commission for the last six years or I would already know.”

“We know, Peter,” Derek growled warningly.

“I can put you back out of commission,” Lydia simpered with a sickly sweet smile. Stiles ducked her head to hide her smirk. Peter gave her flat glare but stopped talking.

“It’s like a super-pack,” Stiles murmured. “A group of all alphas. They would have to have a pretty damn good reason to follow someone else if they were already alphas. What’s going on in the larger world?”

“Ennis’ whole pack had died in a freak accident,” Peter commented.

“Could he be in this alpha pack?” Stiles asked.

“As reasonable as any other guess,” Derek agreed.

“That’s the alpha who bit Paige?” Jackson clarified. They all nodded.

“Did you hear anything about a reason to start building up a super-pack before you came back to Beacon Hills?” Lydia asked, looking at Derek.

“I just graduated from college a year ago,” Derek answered. “I wasn’t in any sort of loop about anything supernatural until I followed Laura back here. She would have known, maybe, but I don’t.”

“He double-majored in Philosophy and Investment Economics at Columbia University and went straight into a full-time position at Morgan-Chase,” Stiles commented absently, staring at the table and drumming her fingers quietly. Everyone turned to her in confusion. “I can read. You’d be amazed what’s in a police file for a suspect.”

“That’s impressive,” Lydia told him. She smelled aroused. Jackson was glaring at the back of her head. Derek looked away, focusing on Isaac. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m twenty-two,” Derek grumbled.

“He graduated in four years, nosy,” Stiles teased. Lydia looked satisfied with that answer. At least that was what she was after, better than what he, and Jackson, judging by his expression, had thought.

“Pot, kettle, you already knew the answers,” Lydia sniped.

“Derek, are there any bolt-holes that you and Peter haven’t checked?”

“The tunnels?” Isaac suggested.

“Tunnels?” Both of Stiles’ eyebrows went to her hairline. Derek rolled his eyes.

“There was a project to build something akin to catacombs or a rabbit warren underground, with multiple exits/entrances hidden across our territory to help us escape from danger when necessary.”

“The “rabbit holes” were going to be disguised and there were going to be traps for outsiders,” Peter continued. “We never finished them. There was only one entrance and very little of the tunnel dug. If we had just been a little faster and gotten the entrance in the basement dug before the fire, maybe we could have gotten out below the mountain ash line.”

“Don’t start the blame game,” Stiles snapped. “It’ll just get us off topic. Have you checked it and is there enough space for a small pack to hide down there with two hostages for nearly two months?”

“There wasn’t anywhere they could have easily held Erica and Boyd,” Peter mused. “But a pack of up to fifteen or so that could handle cramped quarters could use it as a sleeping space. Up to ten members, they could probably stay down there most of the time, just coming out for supply runs. But given that it’s all alphas and Erica and Boyd probably aren’t down there, they’d need lots of space and be watching them, so I’ve really got no explanations.”

“But it is almost the new moon and still waning,” Stiles pointed out. “That’s on our side. They’ll be weaker.”

“So will we,” Jackson reminded her.

“Not as much weaker as the Beta-Alphas would be, right? Wouldn’t they be at Beta strength, rather than full alpha strength? Only the Alpha-Alpha would be at full alpha strength, because he has a pack behind him.”

“Or she!” Lydia insisted, glaring at Stiles.

“History is a recitation of the failures of men,” Stiles quipped back. “What woman would think it a good idea to put all those egos in one room and expect them to work together? The one that started the pack is a man.”

“Stiles is probably right,” Peter agreed. Lydia levelled a murderous glare at him. “A female alpha would never have abandoned her duties to start a pack made solely of alphas. Women are more responsible.” Stiles tossed her hair, sending a smug smirk at Lydia. Derek met Isaac’s eyes to warn him and slammed his hands on the table. Both the girls jumped, turning to stare at him with wide eyes and smelling like prey. The Betas all just flinched at the loud sound.

“Can we focus?” he asked. “Stiles’ point was about the relative strength of our pack versus the alpha pack, not gender politics. You can argue about that until you’re blue for all I care, just after we’re done here.”

“Of course,” Lydia murmured. Stiles just nodded.

“Well, as I was saying, the Beta-Alphas are just slightly stronger than a normal Beta, because they don’t have a pack. It’s like a lone Alpha. So it should be a fairly evenly matched fight, with the moon waning. Plus, we’ll have Erica and Boyd on our side once we get them out of whatever restraints they’re in. That’s five Betas, an alpha, and me and Lydia.” 

“I might be able to beg Allison and her father for back-up,” Lydia agreed. “Probably not any of the other Hunters they’re affiliated with, but that’s two Hunters.”

“You just want to see Chris covered in weapons,” Stiles accused, irritated. “Can we even trust them not to double-cross us after the alphas are taken down? Allison hates Derek for whatever shit Scott told her and she tried to kill Erica and Boyd. She may be your friend, but that doesn’t make her a pack ally.”

“Stiles has a point. They’re Hunters and unless things have sincerely changed since my last brush with the Argents, they don’t help werewolves.” Derek was completely exasperated with Lydia.

“Besides, we might want the alpha pack in place for whenever whatever they formed in anticipation of shows up,” Peter added. Derek nodded. Stiles waved her hands in concession.

“Well, if you want my help, we can’t wait for the next new moon,” Jackson reminded them. “My plane ticket is for the first day of summer vacation. That’s before we even get back to the full moon.”

“They’ve been gone for basically two months already anyway,” Stiles added. “We need some kind of lead.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Lydia exclaimed. “Allison texted me some coordinates last night, asking if we were messing up there or if it was someone else. We can plug them in the GPS and see what’s there.”

“It could have been Peter,” Derek grumbled.

“I’m not to blame for everything,” Peter grumbled back at him.

“Or it could be the alpha pack,” Isaac suggested quietly. “We could get lucky for once. I think we’ve got enough karma built up to at least be tentatively optimistic.” Derek and Peter both conceded to that. They certainly had been through enough that there should be a break in the bad luck at some point. Of course, Peter thought that someone was stealing their good luck and giving it to Scott. Though it sounded a little paranoid, Derek couldn’t help but think that it would explain a few things.

For once, though, they got a break. The suspicious activity Chris Argent had noticed was near what had been intended to be a bank with a pretty spacious vault. No one in the pack had been anywhere near it. Erica and Boyd might or might not be in the bank vault, but they could at least try to follow a scent back to the alphas and find them. Stiles’ mouth was set and Derek waved Peter off when he started to protest her coming with them.

“Just give her a handgun,” Jackson had suggested. “She can shoot.”

“I can,” Stiles affirmed. “I’m not staying here and waiting.”

“We don’t have a gun.”

“Allison does, and we should let them know that we’re going to be there anyway so they don’t think we’re being suspicious,” Lydia pointed out. “The gun is for Stiles’ protection, and she’s human so hopefully they’ll give her one.”

“I have a handgun in my dad’s gun-safe,” Stiles interrupted Lydia’s monologue, “But it’s not legal for me to carry it without my dad’s supervision.”

“It wouldn’t be legal for you to have one from the Argents either,” Peter pointed out. “Do you know the code to the gun-safe?”

“I set it,” Stiles muttered, looking more than a little annoyed. Peter was concerned. Derek recognized that whiff of scent before he pulled himself together. He raised his eyebrows at his uncle who just shook his head back.

“Well, are we just walking in blind?” Isaac asked.

“This is the most information we’ve gotten in nearly two months, Isaac,” Stiles snapped. “Go back to being Mr. Positive, thank you.”

“Stiles!” Derek snapped at her. Isaac did not respond well to loud noises or threats, given his history. Stiles gave him a sulky look but muttered a semi-sincere apology to Isaac.

They ended up basically going in blind. Lydia fired off a text to Allison, letting the Argents know that they were going to check it out. As much as Derek hated giving any information to Hunters, having Hunters in town that weren’t actively trying to kill a fledgling pack did limit the amount of threats they faced. Their only problem for the past two months was Erica and Boyd being missing. At least Lydia was their liaison, so Derek didn’t have to do the checking in. Peter’s car was still running, so they split between his sedan and Stiles’ jeep. Neither Laura’s Camaro nor Jackson’s Porsche were intended for being anywhere near danger. Once Derek got to go back to New York, he would be able to bring his own car back and a RAV4 could handle a little more roughness than a Camaro. It also had more space, thank God. But until then, Peter and Stiles were driving. Lydia and Derek went with Stiles and Jackson and Isaac went with Peter. Lydia refused to get in a car with Peter. They swung by Stiles’ house and she ran in with Lydia on her heels to fetch the handgun. They came out with some sort of wolfsbane-smelling pepper spray and a Taser in Lydia’s hands and a handgun hidden in a holster on Stiles’ lower back. Stiles dropped a handful of clips in the empty cup holder and they followed the GPS directions to the abandoned bank. Stiles and Lydia argued the use of a gun without wolfsbane bullets for most of the ride. Stiles won when Derek took up her side that shooting a werewolf in the head was certainly going to slow them down: they healed quickly, they weren’t invulnerable to harm in the first place.

For once, Derek and his Betas could actually smell the Alphas. They were definitely, finally, in the right place. Derek could feel the pack bonds still linking him to Erica and Boyd finally start to react to proximity. They were in the bank. Everyone slowly got out of the cars. Lydia stuffed the caps to her modified pepper-spray and Taser in her pockets. Stiles took her gun out, an old Beretta painted a deep blue, put a clip in and stuffed the rest in her pockets, holding the gun out in front of her. The wolves of the pack shifted.

“I don’t hear any heartbeats,” Derek commented.

“All the scents I’m picking up are from an hour or so ago,” Peter agreed.

“Cautiously proceed?” Jackson asked, having come around to cover his girlfriend and anchor.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded. He kept his voice low as he kept speaking, “Keep your ears open for ambush. Hopefully they just aren’t expecting us.”

“Knock on wood,” Isaac murmured. They made their way through the empty bank to the vault without any interference. It was unnerving. The vault had an old fashioned turning lock. No one was terribly impressed with this security, regardless of how grateful they were.

“Peter, you open it. Stiles, Lydia, get on the hinges side of the door, out of the way if it slams open. Everyone else at the ready.”

“Complete silence please, so I can hear it click,” Peter murmured. He rolled his shoulders before grasping the rotating handle. Everyone was waiting. Stiles’ eyes were darting around, looking for any sign of movement. Lydia’s face was pinched, and she had white-knuckle grip on her weapons, but her heart was steady. Everyone else’s hearts were kicked up a notch from anxiety. After a moment, the last lock tumbled into place and the vault door was unlocked. With a deep breath, Peter pulled the vault open. Boyd and Erica were curled together defensively in the corner.

“Who’s in there?” Stiles asked.

“Batman?” Erica murmured, looking up slowly. Boyd was eyeing the doorway warily.

“Hey,” Derek slowly ducked into the vault and started toward them. “It’s just us. We finally found you. You’re safe now.”

“Alpha!” Erica threw herself into his arms. “I’m so sorry!”

“Alpha,” Boyd whimpered softly, levering heavily to his feet. Jackson was guarding Peter by the door but the rest of the pack had followed him in. Isaac darted over and took Boyd’s weight. Erica wasn’t letting go of him. Stiles was eyeing her with a dirty look but Derek didn’t say a word to her. Peter pointedly bit back an amused expression. They all made it back outside to the cars before Derek could hear the Alpha pack coming.

“They’re coming, Stiles, take Lydia and Erica and Boyd and go. We’ll follow you in a bit, give you time to get a headstart,” Derek quickly ordered. Isaac dropped Boyd in the backseat on one side while he put Erica on the other side. Lydia climbed into the middle from the front seat while Stiles hurried into the driver’s seat. Lydia hurriedly buckled Boyd and Erica, who were weak as kittens, while everyone slammed the doors shut and then Stiles tore out of the parking lot at top speed.

“I’m taking them to my dad,” she called back from in the car. Derek just turned to face the incoming threat.

“I hear five heartbeats but four pairs of footsteps,” Peter muttered.

“Is there a kid?” Isaac asked in a horrified undertone.

“I think there’s two heartbeats from one body,” Derek replied. He emphatically did not want to know why.

“Well, well,” Ennis grinned ferally as he walked out of the trees. Peter growled warningly. A woman Derek didn’t know was between him and a man that looked vaguely familiar from his childhood. The familiar man was the Alpha-Alpha. Then there was a terrifying looking wolf-man looking thing in a beta shift with two heart-beats following them.

“You’re trespassing on claimed land,” Derek growled.

“Oh, we hadn’t noticed,” the woman taunted.

“Don’t be rude, Kali,” the familiar man snapped at her. She settled down with a soft growl in his direction. There was clearly dissention in the ranks.

“You’ll forgive me for pointing out how unusual your new pack is, Deucalion,” Peter spoke up. Apparently he remembered the man’s name.

“Yes,” he grinned smugly, baring his teeth, “I do have an unusually strong pack. Perhaps your nephew can see the value of powerful allies in the current conditions?”

“I have a pack and territory and an understanding with the Argents,” Derek replied. “I see no need for change.”

“I told you he lacked vision,” Ennis interjected.

“Ennis!” Deucalion snapped. “Do not insult the Hale Alpha.”

“Yes, Alpha,” he muttered mutinously. Lots of dissent, Derek noticed. Peter seemed to be picking up on it as well.

“Our apologies, young Alpha,” Deucalion seemed to be smiling at him.

“For his words or for the kidnapping of our Betas?” Peter asked mildly. There was a bland smile on his face but Derek knew that the gleam in his eyes meant murder for someone at some point. Peter played the waiting game when he wasn’t at an advantage.

“Kidnapping?” Deucalion’s expression turned dark. Derek fought not to flinch. He could not show weakness. But he would not call Peter on it.

“Yes, the Betas that were locked in the vault in this bank, half-starved?” Jackson quipped with a twitch of his lips that could almost be a smirk if it wasn’t a snarl. Derek let his amusement play on his lips.

“Your Betas speak boldly,” Deucalion commented. He looked livid.

“This is Hale territory,” Derek pointed out. “Why should they not speak boldly in their own land?”

“How dare!” Ennis roared, half-shifting and starting for them. Kali and the giant wolf-man caught him, holding him back, but only waiting on orders to let him go and attack themselves. Derek was not in denial to himself that he was completely bewildered as to what in the world this pack was doing on Hale land. They had not been here until they abducted Erica and Boyd two months ago and the land was claimed at that point. It was completely illogical.

“Well, it won’t be your land for much longer,” Deucalion nearly purred. Derek let his lip curl in a snarl.

“We’ll just see about that,” he growled back. Peter retreated quietly while Isaac and Jackson shifted into fighting positions behind him. Derek ignored his uncle. If they got into real trouble, Peter would come through. He just hated getting his hands dirty.

Kali and the wolf-man let go of Ennis, who Isaac leapt forward to meet. Kali jumped forward as well and Jackson caught her with a war-cry of a howl. Derek met Deucalion as the wolf-man scented the air, probably looking for Peter. Peter had always been good at sneaking, though.

The fights were fairly evenly matched. Stiles had been right, as always. Derek was too busy fending off Deucalion to pay too much attention to the details of his Betas’ fights, but he could feel that they were holding their own and the howls and whines of pain were equally from each pack.

Suddenly, a howl of warning from Peter broke through the battle, Derek startled backward instinctively. Deucalion caught him in the stomach with his claws, gutting him, but took a crossbow bolt to the chest and went down hard. Another bolt whizzed by Isaac, nearly catching Ennis in the head. A bullet hit Kali in the shoulder as Jackson ducked. Suddenly, they had the clear advantage in the shocked stillness, especially when a bolt and a bullet simultaneously caught the wolf-man lurking in the back, who fell to the ground with a whine as identical twin teenage boys. Derek let out a short howl and ran at the alphas. His Betas, even Peter, followed suit. The alpha pack took off, running for their lives.

Once they ran the Alpha pack far enough to be relatively certain they weren’t going to turn around, the pack piled into Peter’s car and took off. The Hunters were gone, maybe home, maybe following the alphas, Derek couldn’t have cared less. Peter, as usual, was completely unharmed. Derek had been gutted and was trying to hold his insides on the inside while he healed, gushing blood. Isaac had taken a bad fall and was holding his forearm while his bones healed. Jackson had blood running down his forehead from a head wound, but he had also shattered his femur and was whimpering piteously as Peter drove them back to the den as quickly as he could without jostling them unnecessarily.

They found Stiles and Lydia fussing over Erica and Boyd in the main room. Lydia screeched at the sight of all the blood on Jackson’s face and him leaning heavily on Peter to get inside without putting weight on his still-healing leg. Stiles looked up from cleaning dried blood off Erica’s arm and gasped at the sight they made.

“We’re all healing and the alphas didn’t follow us,” Derek assured her. Peter helped Jackson lower himself onto the couch and got out of Lydia’s way. Isaac dropped down beside them. Derek slid down the wall to the floor.

“Close the door and lock it, Peter, are you stupid or just trying to get us killed?” Stiles snarled, hurrying over to him. “Are all your insides inside?” she asked, worry filling the air between them. Peter actually did as bade, for once, before crossing over to help Erica finish cleaning the blood off her arm. Erica and Boyd both had on fresh clothes.

“I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep because of the blood loss,” he answered soothingly.

“That was not what I asked,” she warned.

“All my insides are inside,” Derek parroted back to her. Stiles deflated with relief. Isaac smiled wanly. Peter smirked. “Did you take Erica and Boyd to the police station?”

“Yeah, and their families were alerted that they have been put into intensive care for the moment,” Stiles explained. “Of course, they’re actually here with you, but Dad let me handle it because he was drowning in paperwork so I spun some story about how they’d already been checked over by EMTs and their immune systems were compromised so they couldn’t have visitors while they were in the hospital. They were so glad that they were alive that they didn’t even question it. So, we can send them home tomorrow or Sunday and everything will be dandy.”

“Unless we just accidentally started a war with the Alpha pack,” Jackson grumbled.

“Oh, I texted Allison that you guys needed back-up at the coordinates she’d asked me about. Did they show up?” Lydia asked.

“Chris came with a few men,” Derek answered. “He left Allison at home. I don’t think they killed any of the alphas though.”

“How many were there?” Stiles asked.

“There were three normal alphas and one giant monster-beast with two heartbeats,” Peter replied drily. “I wisely got my ass out of the way.”

“Okay then,” Stiles said, blinking at him in surprise.

"Are you sure it’ll be safe for us to go back to living with our families?” Boyd croaked.

“You’ll have police protection. And the Argents have shown that we aren’t completely enemies. If they try anything, Chris will probably get them for breaking the code by putting the police and your families in the middle of the supernatural,” Stiles soothed. It was clear she had already made these points before. Lydia was rolling her eyes in the corner of his vision.

“You’ll be fine. We’ll get you healed and recuperated and you can make up your lost schoolwork during summer school so you’ll be mostly back to normal in the Fall. Hopefully the alpha pack will have long since moved on with the Argents being here and we shouldn’t have this problem again.” Derek met Boyd’s eyes, letting him feel the safety of the pack bonds. “You’ll be okay now.” After a fair bit more reassuring, Boyd calmed down enough for them to discuss sleeping arrangements for the night.

Stiles was supposed to be spending the night with Lydia because her father was working the night shift and she had seen a crime. So she was staying, because Jackson couldn’t go home before he healed and Lydia was not leaving him with Peter. Erica and Boyd were staying and he, Isaac and Peter lived in the loft. Eventually they decided that everyone but Peter would sleep in the main room. (It was a mutual decision. Peter didn’t want to sleep in the same room any more than they wanted him there.) Peter dragged Derek’s bed down to the center of the floor and then took Isaac’s bed and followed with the beds Derek had bought with Erica and Boyd in mind. Erica and Boyd begged for one bed to be pushed up next to Derek’s so they could be close to him. Isaac wanted to be on the other side of Derek from the door. Lydia and Jackson said they would take the last bed. But neither Derek nor Stiles had thought about anyone’s reaction when Peter asked Derek if he needed to move the couch for Stiles to sleep on and Derek said no.

“You’re going to leave her over by the door?” Peter seemed shocked.

“Of course not,” Derek glared at his uncle.

“I’ll sleep with Derek,” Stiles clarified. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“You have been holding out on me!” Lydia accused with narrowed eyes. “You said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“I slept in her bed while I was a fugitive right after Laura’s death,” Derek explained. “It wasn’t because of anything you’re trying to insinuate.”

“I slept in Derek’s lap in the Jeep when the Hunters were after us a couple months ago,” Stiles added. “The driver’s side was up against a wall and Derek was the one staying awake because I had school. I did not realize this was going to be a big deal.”

“It isn’t a big deal,” Derek grumbled. “It’s just logical. I have a queen-size bed, there’s plenty of room, and there’s no reason for you to sleep on the sofa.” Lydia took the cue to drop it. Peter also dropped it, though he smelled impressed, for whatever reason. By that point, Isaac’s arm had healed, so he and Peter straightened up the bedding from the furniture moving before Peter went upstairs to sleep in his own room. Isaac and Lydia half-carried Jackson onto the closest bed to the couch and Lydia climbed in with Jackson after carefully helping him out of his jeans.

“No fornication down there,” Peter warned from his room. Derek rolled his eyes. Jackson shook his head. Isaac blushed.

“Did Peter say something?” Stiles asked, tidying up the first aid mess in the kitchen.

“No sex,” Derek relayed. Stiles nodded. Lydia rolled her eyes. Erica and Boyd clung to one another while Derek and Isaac helped them into the bed next to Derek’s. They settled down easily, already in comfortable, soft clothing from the police station. Isaac changed into a pair of pajamas before he got into bed. Derek threw his ruined shirt in the trash and stripped off his jeans in the laundry area, passing Stiles one of his clean shirts from the dryer. Stiles peeled herself out of her clothes while Derek tried desperately not to ogle her and then slid into the blue t-shirt he had given her. All the Betas were looking over in confusion at Derek’s lustful scent and Stiles in his shirt.

“Nothing?” Lydia muttered drily under her breath as she looked over.

“Is Stiles going to be your girlfriend?” Isaac asked quietly enough that Lydia and Stiles couldn’t hear. Derek nodded. He’d stopped denying it to himself a while ago. Jackson whistled lowly. Lydia eyed him suspiciously. Stiles blushed and quickly clambered into the bed.

“That explains a bit,” Jackson commented. Derek gave him the stink eye as he carefully followed Stiles into bed.

“What does?” Lydia demanded.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jackson promised. Derek lazily glared at him with only one eye open.

“Tell her what later?” Stiles slurred.

“It’s not important,” Derek shushed her. “Go to sleep.” Stiles nodded sleepily, already half-way there. She dropped off to sleep fast, the way she always did, soft and pliant in Derek’s arms.

“Is she already asleep?” Jackson demanded, face screwed up and stinking of confusion. Derek just nodded, one eyebrow raised. “She’s always had insomnia, how is she just out?”

“She trusts Derek to protect her while she’s sleeping?” Peter offered.

“Peter could be right,” Isaac mused. Lydia levelled a glare at him.

“She trusts Derek,” Boyd answered with a rough voice. Erica was already asleep as well, but she could fall asleep at the drop of a hat at full strength.

“Can everyone go to sleep?” Derek asked gently. “We’ve all been roughed up, except Lydia, and you heal better and faster while you’re sleeping.”

“What if the alphas circle back to get us?” Isaac asked quietly.

“We have wards; they won’t get in,” Derek assured him. Stiles had followed the instructions saved on Peter’s laptop with all his other miscellaneous information once they had the laptop and the wards were strong and pure. They would hold, especially with Stiles herself inside them.

The next morning, Erica and Boyd were a lot closer to what their strength would have been normally. Derek was just grateful that they had rescued them just before a new moon, given that they had been somehow cut off from the moon and were going to have to re-learn control almost from scratch. They at least would have a little over four weeks before they had to deal with a full moon. Derek, Peter, and Stiles ended up having to explain that Stiles had warded the loft to all the Betas, but no one pitched a fit about her basically being their emissary. Normally the emissary was not romantically involved with the alpha, but there was nothing Derek had ever heard of that gave any compelling reason against it. Emotions clouding someone’s judgment did not sound compelling to him, anyway. An emissary should be biased in the pack’s favor and concerned for them and their welfare.

Lydia and Jackson went home before noon, but Stiles stuck around for most of the afternoon, as they watched movie after movie on Netflix through Peter’s laptop to give an excuse for their pack cuddles. By the time Stiles left, she reeked of the pack, enough her father might pick up on it, though Derek could not bring himself to care, because Erica and Boyd smelled like pack again too. They pledged themselves back to the pack, and Isaac and Peter made official pledges too. Even Jackson did his when he stopped in with Lydia on their way to a date just to check on everyone. Lydia did not offer and Derek did not ask.


	4. Chapter 4

(Sat.-Sun.) September 23-24, 2011 (one week post-season 3A/ waning new moon)

They all knew that the pack, more-rather the various people attached to either Derek or Scott who were clearly not functioning as a pack, were not even remotely a unified force and they needed some sort of bonding experience to bring them together. No one trusted Peter except Derek and Stiles and it was only limited trust for them. Allison was trying to be pack, but she was a Huntress. Scott was estranged from everyone but Allison and Isaac. Stiles had some trust issues with Erica, as well as a healthy distrust of Scott. Boyd’s pack ties were too weak. Lydia, after Jackson had left, had completely dropped the pack for the summer as much as Scott had. Jackson had turned back up in the middle of them dealing with the Darach, completely confused by the dynamics. (Derek suspected Stiles had called Jackson home, but no one had yet volunteered the information.) So everyone had gone in their own direction instead of growing together in parallel paths and it had clearly greatly weakened the pack, given the disaster that Jennifer, Julia, whoever, had wrought.

Derek had been giving them leniency because they were teenagers and none of them raised in a pack, but clearly that was not the answer. So, Derek ordered a full-pack camping trip. They needed to trust one another, not make plans behind everyone’s back and force people into things. Of course, it was hardly the first time Scott had done this, but everyone else could stand a lesson on it as well. He was hoping that spending time together as a pack would help them start to act like one.

They had managed to convince everyone’s parents to let them go on an overnight trip. Derek had been hoping to take them into the woods for a while so they would be able to bond as a pack, but it was the middle of the semester and no one’s parents were going to go for that. Chris talked to the Sheriff and Peter schmoozed them both and then they convinced Melissa. Derek had put the supplies on the Betas and other pack-members, as a way to encourage them to communicate prior to the trip. He reminded them that everyone showing up with the same thing was just going to suck and he was not going to bail them out. Lydia had gotten a dangerous gleam in her eye, and he assumed she would make sure that everything was planned for. Of course, he should have fucking known better.

• Stiles brought a duffel of clothes and things for herself, a giant cloth bag of camping snacks for the pack, and her pillow.  
• Scott came with his sleeping bag and Isaac’s (but not Stiles’, like he had apparently promised) and a duffel of clothes and four two-liter sodas.  
• Isaac had a bookbag of clothes, another four two-liters, and a two-person tent (courtesy Mama McCall).  
• Lydia had a bag of clothes and lord knew what, sleeping bags for herself and Allison, a two-person tent, a full first aid kit for the humans, and “camping supplies” in the form of rope and butterfly knives. Allison was hanging on Lydia’s coat-tails with a bag of clothes and an awkward expression.  
• Jackson had a bag of clothes, a bunch of cooked meat to warm over the fire, a lighter, sleeping bags for himself and Boyd and Erica, and two tents: one single and one two-person.  
• Erica and Boyd had conned Jackson into bringing their shares, so they had clothing and their own snacks.

Derek was just glad that he and Peter had found the “family” tent and cots at Peter’s old house. (The entire Hale clan had, of course, not lived in one house. It had been luck that they had nearly all been there that night: good for the Hunters, bad for them.) Stiles was apparently sleeping with him again. He just caught her eye and nodded and Stiles’ anxiety melted away. Peter had brought canned fruits and vegetables and a camp stove as well. Derek shrugged. It could have been worse.

“Well, we didn’t do too horribly, though, Scott, if this wasn’t a camping trip, if it was a fight, you just left Stiles unprotected. She trusted you to do something simple for her and you forgot. That’s the most obvious one, though, did anybody else fall short?”

“Erica and Boyd seem to have conned Jackson into bringing their things,” Peter commented, “While it’s certainly hypocritical of me, I should point out that pulling your own weight is important as a pack. Everyone can’t do the same things and that’s normal, but you have to contribute.”

“I was viewing that as Jackson contributing his father’s overabundant income,” Derek replied blandly.

Jackson nodded in agreement. “I figured Erica and Boyd would be pitching both their and my tent and heating everyone’s food up. You know, since they only had to bring themselves.” Erica’s face scrunched up in displeasure, but she nodded. Boyd just shrugged.

“I can’t believe Scott forgot Stiles’ sleeping bag,” Allison whispered to Lydia. Peter rolled his eyes.

“I can,” Lydia replied as she bared her teeth in Scott’s direction. Scott sneered at her.

“No fighting, unless you’re going to resolve it,” Derek interrupted their challenging back and forth.

“Is Stiles really going to sleep on the ground?” Allison asked, looking to Derek. It was strange but nice. “Like, it’s Scott’s fault, so does she get his sleeping bag?”

“We already figured it out,” Stiles replied. Most of his Betas chuckled. Lydia was smirking. Allison was just confused. Apparently neither Lydia nor Isaac had clued her in to his intentions towards Stiles, which had kept his Betas occupied all summer, as they did not seem to understand the concept of waiting on her to be 18 before dating the Sheriff’s daughter. Scott just grinned at him like the cat that ate the canary.

“So, not bailing us out, huh?” he taunted.

“I didn’t bring anything extra,” Derek replied. “Stiles is just going to bunk with me. You’re lucky we’re willing to share, or you’d be out a sleeping bag and a tent space. I did notice that the tents were only two-person at the biggest and there was not enough space for everyone had Peter and I happened to have brought two single tents instead of the family tent.” Silence greeted him. Scott was staring open-mouthed. Allison was wide-eyed and shocked. Everyone else was looking at their reactions.

“Jesus!” Stiles swore, “This is not a fucking big deal.”

“Stiles, it’s unladylike to swear,” Jackson spoke in a mocking tone, like they had heard it a lot growing up.

“I am a lady, so anything I choose to do is ladylike,” Stiles shot back without missing a beat. Jackson just rolled his eyes at her.

“Children!” Peter snapped, cutting them off.

“Sorry, Peter,” they both chorused quietly. He just nodded.

“Are we going sometime today?” he muttered, glancing at Derek. Derek decided he was not going to be the one to ask and just nodded, leading the way into the woods, leaving all the cars inside the repaired wards around the old House. Everyone fell in behind him. Peter was at his left. Stiles ended up on his right. Jackson was behind her, picking teasing fights. (Stiles was indulging him.) Lydia and Allison were behind them, murmuring about Stiles and Jackson and Scott. Scott and Isaac were behind them. Scott was irritated and Isaac was probably staring at the girls. Erica and Boyd were hand-in-hand in the back.

“So, we are going to talk as a group once we find a place to set up camp. I’m giving you fair warning to get the complaints and protests out now, because I don’t want a bunch of sullen, irritable teenagers glaring at each other all night. I, for one, prefer to get a full night’s rest and we will be sitting there until we have all communicated as a pack for at least an hour.”

“Don’t make me pull teeth, because I might get confused and think I should take that phrase literally,” Peter teased. Everyone’s hearts but Stiles and Jackson’s kicked up a notch in fear.

“Don’t be an ass,” Jackson told him exasperatedly. Stiles giggled.

“You aren’t feral anymore,” she pointed out.

“They make excellent points,” Derek added.

“Can’t a guy make a joke anymore?” Peter grumbled, but it was good-natured. Jackson chuckled.

“That wasn’t funny, though,” Isaac pointed out. A stricken expression passed quickly over Peter’s features. Derek felt his lips twitch at having caught one of his real expressions.

“Don’t make jokes,” Lydia asked flatly. “I don’t like your jokes any more than I like you.”

“You wound me,” Peter declared dramatically, throwing a hand over his eyes as he clutched at his chest.

“Watch the tree,” Stiles murmured helpfully as a branch thwacked Peter across the back of his hand. Peter made a sound of displeasure as he quickly brought his hand back down for inspection. There was not even a mark, of course. Derek rolled his eyes.

“How far are we hiking?” Boyd asked.

“There’s a good spot near the waterfall,” Peter answered.

“That’s at least ten miles,” Stiles murmured.

“You can walk ten miles,” Derek assured her.

“Someone else will be carrying this tent before we get there,” Lydia announced.

“Erica, Boyd, come get your shit, I’m not lugging it ten miles,” Jackson ordered, stopping and dropping what he had in his hands. Derek smothered a laugh. It really wasn’t that far and they only had supplies for a night. Stiles held her bag of food out to Peter, who took it without a word as they waited. Erica and Boyd took up their own things. Lydia handed her tent over to Boyd to carry and half of the food to Allison.

“We good now?” Derek asked, looking over his pack. They all nodded and started out again. The wolves were fine with the hike but Allison and Lydia tired and slowed, even in their hiking boots. Stiles somehow talked Derek into letting her hitch a ride. Derek had this feeling it hadn’t taken too much persuasion on her part, especially given Peter’s general amusement.

Eventually, though, they got to the clearing that they had wanted, and it was even still clear. Everyone with a tent, except Jackson who was helping Peter get a fire started, was setting it up. Stiles got all the food together and Allison sat down. Erica put together their tent while Boyd put together Jackson’s. Derek set the family tent up by himself. Scott and Isaac got their tent put together through sheer luck. Lydia had hers pitched in a minute, surely, sinking down beside Allison. They all ended up around the fire, munching on s’mores while Boyd heated the meat and Erica managed Peter’s canned goods. Isaac had put himself next to Allison and Scott took his other side. Stiles sat down next to Lydia and Derek had sat next to her, Jackson ending up sandwiched between him and Peter. Derek gave them until the food was done and everyone had been served to their satisfaction and had eaten before he started the pack discussion. He got up and got a small jar out of his backpack.

“Remember what I said about groaning,” Derek reminded them. “Now the point of this exercise is to encourage communication. A pack is supposed to be like a family. You support and strengthen one another. One of our biggest problems is not sharing information. So I came up with a bunch of get-to-know-you type questions. They’re written on slips of paper in this jar. What we’re going to do is either I can pick them out or we can take turns picking, but everyone will answer every question and we’ll discuss them. This is not an invitation to belittle anyone else’s answers, just to talk about whys and hows.”

“Is this going to be an over-sharing Never Have I Ever?” Lydia asked. Derek shook his head.

“No, the questions are more family-friendly than that,” he assured her. He pulled out the first question. “Like the first one is: If you could visit any place in the world, where would it be? Please answer in more than one word. Anyone want to start?”

“I’d go to Disneyland,” Isaac piped up. “I never got to go, and Camden always promised to take me once we were adults, but that’s not going to happen and I want to go for him.”

“My mom always wanted to go back home,” Stiles added. “She was born in Europe but she was in the States from the time she was really young and she never got to go back. It’s on my bucket list to do that for her.”

“Where was your mom from?” Allison asked. Derek smiled.

“A small town in Poland, the same one my dad’s grandmother was from, actually, called Jastrzębie Zdrój,” Stiles answered, her accent perfect on the Polish name.

“I didn’t know you spoke Polish,” Scott accused.

“Both my parents speak it fluently,” Stiles snapped back. Then she blanched.

“I always wanted to go to Milan,” Lydia cut in before it got too awkward. “Their fashion week is really beautiful and Italy has all the hot men.”

“I want to go back to France,” Allison commented. “It’s so pretty there and we were in a small town where all the buildings were old and everyone just lived this very settled life.”

“I always wanted to go visit New Zealand,” Derek figured it was as good a time as any for him to join in.

“You just want to go to the Shire,” Peter accused.

“I said no belittling,” Derek grumbled back. “It’s pretty and the wildlife are less dangerous than Australia.”

“And the Shire,” Stiles whispered with shining eyes. Derek did not correct her. The Shire was in New Zealand.

“I always wanted to go swim the Great Barrier Reef,” Erica piped up. “I thought it was always going to be a dream, but now I could actually go if I got the money. It’s my Mecca, basically.”

“My little sister wanted desperately to go to the Disney World in Tokyo with the aquarium,” Boyd spoke up, “So I’d go there, for her.” There was a moment of silence. Derek glanced over the group.

“Jackson, Scott, Peter,” he prompted.

“I have to do this?” Peter sounded outraged.

“Did you want to move?” Derek countered. Peter shook his head.

“I would go to Antarctica, I guess, to get away from people,” he grumbled.

“Lie,” Stiles declared. All the wolves turned to her, then to Derek, who nodded. Peter looked livid.

“I would go to Verona, for my daughter, since she never got to go,” he mumbled.

“The Juliet house?” Lydia asked softly. Peter nodded.

“Rosalynn loved the idea of the Juliet letters and the women who answer them,” Derek added. Peter looked away, probably blinking back tears.

“I would go on a roadtrip across the States,” Jackson finally answered. “We always travel on a plane and go overseas and I see airports and hotels and tourist areas. It’s really impersonal and I barely know the US outside of Beacon Hills and San Francisco. It bugs me.” Scott did not look keen on answering.

“Scott?” Allison prompted him this time. “Everyone else has answered.”

“Best for last,” he shrugged.

“No I in team,” Stiles retorted, adding, “Or pack.”

Scott glared at her before answering. “I guess I’d go to the Bahamas and relax on the beach. It’d be fun.” Derek was not getting a good feeling about Scott being remotely cooperative. He had had hope, albeit not much.

“I’ll pick the next one,” Lydia offered. Derek passed the jar over, leaning over Stiles. Lydia swirled the jar for a moment before reaching in and plucking one out. “If you could write a message for a fortune cookie, what would it be?”

“Strength comes in many forms, not all of them obvious,” Allison spoke up first. Derek nodded, it made sense for a Huntress.

“Sometimes family doesn’t have anything to do with biology,” Jackson offered. Stiles smiled at him and he smirked back.

“Does that mean you’ve learned to deal with your parents?” Lydia asked. Jackson shook his head.

“No, Stiles has always been my family, and now the pack is my family. They were never really there for me. That’s not family,” Jackson corrected.

“You can choose to move on, even when the world has ended,” Derek decided. He had learned that with Laura in New York and he’d learned it again when they came back and Laura was gone and he seemingly had only her murderer’s mess to clean up.

“Family is who protects you, not who you were born to,” Isaac declared, looking straight at Derek. Derek smiled at him, touched.

“Revenge is best served cold,” Peter offered, cool as you please. Everyone turned to him in confusion.

“Peter!” Stiles gasped.

“Well, that’s my hard-won advice: trying to get revenge for your family’s murder while you’re half-feral is a bad plan. Wait until you can plan it out methodically and hopefully avoid your own demise in the meantime,” Peter explained.

“Dear god,” Stiles mumbled, scrubbing a hand over her face.

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Scott piped up, “If we can go with already common phrases.”

“There’s nothing against it in the question,” Lydia agreed mildly. No one protested.

“Self-confidence comes from within, but looking fierce never hurt,” Erica announced hers with a head toss, showing off her hair. Derek chuckled.

“The pack survives,” Boyd decided. “It seems apt.”

“A Song of Ice and Fire?” Stiles asked, eyebrows raised. Boyd shrugged, nodding. Stiles nodded back, impressed.

“The meaning of Life is pi,” Lydia quipped. Stiles giggled.

“It’s 42,” Derek corrected with a smile. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Stiles?” Peter prompted.

“I don’t know,” Stiles muttered. “Spend more time on the internet and less time looking for dead bodies, it’s safer?” Everyone cracked up. “I guess, There is only one god, Death, and all we say to him is Not Today?” Derek nodded. That fit Stiles. Boyd smiled at her. It must be from the same books.

“I’ll pull one,” Allison offered, taking the jar from Lydia. She shook it gently and pulled one out. “Describe yourself in three words.”

“Beautiful, strong, transformed,” Erica rattled hers off easily.

“Genius, beautiful, something,” Lydia knew hers as well.

“Strong and pretty,” Allison added.

“Survivor, loved, pack,” Isaac said, nodding to himself.

“Survivor, strong, Alpha,” Peter announced.

“I think you mispronounced delusional,” Stiles muttered under her breath.

“Be nice,” Derek warned her.

“My own anchor,” Scott interrupted the mutual glares between Stiles and Peter. Isaac nodded, like he recognized the words.

“Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken,” Boyd offered.

“All the Game of Thrones,” Stiles commented with a smile. Boyd shrugged.

“I think I would be a Martell, at least, by their motto.”

“Scott would be a Lannister by the official motto, and Peter one by the unofficial motto,” Stiles replied. Boyd chuckled, nodding.

“What’s the mottos?” Scott asked.

“Official is Hear Us Roar,” Boyd answered. “Unofficial is A Lannister Always Pays Their Debts.” That did actually describe Scott and Peter, who were both nodding understandingly.

“I’ll take Mother of Dragons, then,” Stiles announced. Boyd grinned.

“You’d make a great Khaleesi,” he assured her.

“What’s a Khaleesi?” Derek asked.

“There’s a tribal system in the south, and the leaders of the tribe are the Khal and the Khaleesi, like an early medieval King and Queen,” Stiles explained. “The Khaleesi in the story is named Danerys and she hatched dragons from eggs because it’s apparently a talent her family had generations ago and she got dragon eggs as a wedding present. So she’s called the Mother of Dragons.”

"Yeah, that does fit,” Allison smiled tentatively at Stiles, who beamed back.

“I’ll take stupid, headstrong, and arrogant for 300,” Jackson interrupted.

“You aren’t stupid,” Stiles corrected. “Use violent.”

“Is that supposed to be better?” Allison asked in horror.

“More accurate,” Stiles and Jackson replied simultaneously.

“Derek?” Boyd prompted, “I think you’re last.”

“Mm…” Derek sighed. “Six months ago it would have been overwhelmed, under-prepared, desperate, but I think I can say hopeful, strong, and growing now. We could be a really strong pack if we just manage to work together.”

“Good guilt trip,” Peter murmured. Derek gently pushed him.

“I wasn’t trying to guilt trip, I was being honest.”

“Just because it makes you feel guilty, Peter, doesn’t mean it’s not objectively true,” Stiles said slyly, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes with a smirk. Derek grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her once, gently, frowning at her.

“Be nice,” he reminded her. Stiles nodded.

“What was that thing you just did?” Allison asked, confused. “Is that a pack thing or a werewolf thing or what?” Derek blinked at her.

“You grabbed her by the scruff and shook her to make her behave, it’s an animal parenting trick,” Peter clarified for everyone. “My parents did it with us, because it’s a good way to subtly correct someone and show dominance without making a scene or looking ridiculous, so we all did it with our children.” There was a pause. Derek had noticed that whenever he or Peter brought up their family, everyone shut up.

“All?” Jackson broke the silence.

“Me and Talia and our older brothers,” Peter replied. “There were four of us and then the kids.”

“Robert and Linda had Sara, and Steven and Elizabeth had Adam and his older brother Mark, you remember them,” Stiles added, looking at Jackson. He clearly did not. “Cora broke your nose in second grade because you were making fun of Adam. He was the scrawny kid with his nose in a book and the hipster square-rim glasses?”

“Oh, that kid. Sara was your friend from down the street, right?” Jackson asked. Stiles nodded. Allison gaped at them.

“They didn’t live in the same house with the Alpha?” she asked.

“No, we all had our own houses,” Peter explained. “We agreed that we needed to look and act as much like a human family as possible, because there was a lot of Hunter violence that was suspect from our end. So we all got houses on the edge of the Preserve and Talia took our parents’ house, the Alpha house.”

“My grandparents are still in San Francisco, actually,” Derek spoke up. “They moved when they retired and mom took over as Alpha.”

“You can become Alpha without killing for it?” Scott asked.

“Most intra-pack Alpha turnovers don’t involve any death. There’s a ritual you do on the full moon and the former Alphas grant their spark to the new Alphas. However, it also becomes awkward for the new Alphas to have the former ones hanging around, so they go to some big city nearby that isn’t claimed for a specific group.” Peter was staring at Scott, sincerely unimpressed.

“Then why did you kill Laura?” Erica asked bluntly. Derek winced.

“He was feral and she was six years older than she should have been and smelled like New York,” Stiles snapped. “He obviously didn’t recognize her. Don’t be an ass.”

“Are you defending him?” Scott demanded.

“Hey!” Derek barked, effectively shutting down the budding screaming match. “This is not helping anything. Peter was feral at the time and we should all have moved on by now. Peter isn’t feral now and yelling at each other does not build pack bonds.”

“See, Derek trusts me,” Peter preened.

“I’m just not letting your untrustworthiness de-rail the point of this exercise,” Derek corrected. Peter was much less pleased at that statement.

“Allison, pass me the jar?” Jackson asked, redirecting them a little. Allison picked it back up and it passed through Lydia and Stiles before she leaned over Derek to pass it to Jackson. He pulled out a slip of paper, “What animal would your daemon be and why?”

“What’s daemon mean in this sense?” Peter asked.

“There was a children’s fantasy series where everyone’s soul was outside their bodies in animal form: it was called a daemon,” Erica explained. “It was great, but they only made one movie. It wasn’t promoted well and did poorly opening weekend. The idea is really popular for crossovers.”

“Yeah, like sorting people into Hogwarts houses,” Lydia agreed. “I’d probably have an orangutan, like Lyra’s mother. It settled before she went evil.”

“That’d fit,” Stiles agreed. “Mine would probably have settled as an owl of some kind when my mom died. Owls were her favorite.”

“They’re also Athena’s animal,” Peter pointed out, “Which fits you, smart and good in battle.”

“Battle?” Boyd asked.

“Athena was Zeus’ general for his army, Ares was a foot soldier and Athena was the strategist,” Stiles explained. “She wasn’t just arts and culture and philosophy.”

“I’d have a wolf or a big dog, like a husky,” Derek decided. No one asked why, they just all nodded. It was pretty obvious.

“I’d have some obscure bug from the tropics that looks really pretty and fragile but is really poisonous,” Erica decided. “I’d have to do a google search to give you a specific species, but…” Everyone nodded.

“Look like the flower but be the serpent under’t,” Stiles quoted. Erica beamed at her.

“I think I’d have a bison. They’re protective,” Peter piped up.

“What?” Jackson turned to look at him. Everyone else was craning around to look too. Derek had this vague idea that they circled up around the more vulnerable pack members when they were being hunted, maybe that was what Peter was thinking?

“You have clearly never hunted a bison,” Peter grumbled.

“Neither have you, they’re endangered,” Stiles fussed.

“I’d have a bear, maybe, or a pitbull,” Boyd spoke up.

“That would fit you, Mr. Gentle Giant,” Erica teased, leaning into him. Boyd blushed as he wrapped an arm around her, keeping her close.

“I think I’d have a hedgehog, because they can curl up and hide all their vulnerable spots,” Isaac decided.

“And they’re so cute,” Stiles agreed, beaming at him.

“I think I’d be a lion,” Scott announced.

“A male lion or a female lion?” Lydia asked carefully.

“Male, of course, it needs a mane,” Scott scoffed. Lydia and Stiles and Allison were all snickering and Erica was eyeing Scott with deep suspicion.

“I’d have a Scottish Terrier, like Jock, from Lady and the Tramp,” Jackson announced.

“Oh, would you marry me to save me from the humiliation of having been thrown in the pound?” Stiles teased.

“Yes, I would gallantly save your honor and reputation,” Jackson quipped back, throwing a hand towards her dramatically.

“

You two are a mess.” Lydia rolled her eyes at them.

“But a cute mess,” Jackson corrected.

“With cool accents,” Stiles added, nodding sagely.

“What about you, Allison?” Erica asked.

“I really don’t know, what animal fits a huntress who wants to protect, not hunt?” she asked. Everyone thought for a moment.

“What about a jaguar?” Stiles asked. “Big cats are predators, so they can hunt, but they don’t just hunt for sport.”

“Yeah, I like that,” Allison nodded.

“And cats don’t really like dogs anyway,” Lydia teased, ruffling her hair. Allison grinned at Lydia, blushing faintly. Derek wondered absently if maybe Lydia needed a girl to settle down with, since she hadn’t seemed to miss Jackson much after he had left and hadn’t seemed too excited for his return either. They would be good for each other, probably.

“I’ll pull one,” Stiles offered.

“I brought a set of questions for a Never Have I Ever thing,” Lydia announced, “So maybe this should be the last one.”

“Yeah, I brought I set of either/or questions for a pack poll,” Stiles nodded.

“Overachievers,” Erica muttered.

“Okay, last question,” Derek agreed. Jackson handed the jar to Stiles. She pulled one out and set the jar down in front of him before reading the question.

“If you woke up a superhero tomorrow, who would you want to be or what powers would you want?”

“I call Catwoman,” Erica announced quickly.

“Black Widow,” Lydia pronounced.  


“Peggy Carter!” Allison called out.

“I’ll take Iron Man,” Jackson announced.

“I want to be Thor,” Boyd stated firmly.

“I want to be Captain America, protecting American values,” Scott said.

“I guess I should take Batman,” Derek chuckled.

“I want Daredevil,” Peter said. “He’s cool.”

“I think Spiderman,” Stiles decided.

“Stiles!” Isaac protested, looking horrified.

“Okay, you take Spiderman, I’ll be Deadpool,” Stiles agreed.

“Alright, Stiles, Lydia, which one of you wanted to go next?”

“I’ll go first,” Lydia decided. Stiles just shrugged and nodded, going with it. “Alright, I wrote a list of questions, so we can just go down the list. Everyone will need a drink.” Everyone picked up their drinks obediently. “Never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite sex.” Everyone drank.

“Who’ve you kissed, Stiles?” Scott asked.

“Me,” Jackson snapped, glaring at Scott.

“Moving on,” Lydia looked pointedly at both of them. “Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” Derek, Peter, Stiles, Jackson, and Allison drank. Lydia stared at Allison. Scott stared at Allison. Derek raised an eyebrow at Jackson.

“Danny,” he explained, “Ignoring drunken make-outs at Jungle because Danny didn’t want to go by himself.” That explained it. He was not surprised that Stiles had kissed a girl. She had had a crush on Lydia for years, apparently.

“Allison!” Scott whispered.

“What? I had a girlfriend once,” she replied, tossing her head. “We kissed.”

“Moving on,” Derek prompted. Lydia got herself together, with a little head nod and turned back to her questions.

“Never have I ever had sex.” Derek, Peter, Jackson, Lydia, Allison, Scott, Erica and Boyd all drank. Stiles and Isaac did not. No one was surprised.

“Never have I ever had “no-strings” sex.” Derek, Peter, Allison and Lydia drank. Everyone else just blinked at Lydia.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.” Derek and Peter drank. Everyone else was looking around awkwardly, then relieved.

“Never have I ever had sex in public- this includes outdoor sex.” Derek, Peter, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Erica and Boyd all drank.

“Never have I ever gotten caught while having sex.” Derek and Peter drank. Everyone else was giggling.

“Never have I ever given oral.” Derek, Peter, Lydia, Jackson, Allison, Scott, Erica and Boyd drank. Stiles and Isaac rolled their eyes at each other.

“Never have I ever received oral.” went exactly the same.

“Never have I ever had a two-week hickey.” Lydia, Jackson and Allison drank. Everyone else shrugged.

“Never have I ever gone on a date.” Everyone drank.

“Never have I ever been in a long-term relationship.” Everyone drank but poor Isaac.

“Never have I ever fallen in love.” Everyone drank.

“Never have I ever fallen out of love.” Derek, Stiles, Erica, Lydia, Jackson, and Allison all drank. Peter just shrugged when all of the Betas looked at him.

“I’m still in love with the only woman I ever loved,” he replied. “Her death didn’t change that.”

“Never have I ever gotten drunk,” Lydia quickly changed the subject. Derek, Peter, Stiles, Jackson, Lydia, and Allison drank. Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd all shrugged. Peter was side-eyeing Stiles.

“Never have I ever gotten high.” Derek and Peter and Allison drank. Allison blushed. Peter nodded at Stiles, smiling proudly.

“Never have I ever done something illegal.” Everyone drank. Being a werewolf, illegal shit kind of came with the territory, most of it pretty innocuous.

“Last one: Never have I ever gotten caught doing something illegal.” Derek, Jackson, Allison, Stiles and Scott all drank. Everyone else was smirking. Derek was pointedly not meeting anyone’s gaze. He had done every.single.thing. on the list.

“That was enlightening,” Erica purred. Derek slowly looked at her out of the corner of her eye. She was grinning like a shark at him.

“Stiles, you said you had something.” Derek refused to engage. It was a legitimate choice. Stiles had a thing to make a quick poll from with 10 questions. She went rapid-fire through them with each pack member, making notes on her sheet. Then she muttered to herself as she scribbled on the paper. Derek peeked over her shoulder: she was cleaning up the information.

Pack Poll:

1) Sleep Cycle  
a) Early Bird: Peter, Allison, Scott, Boyd, Isaac  
b) Night Owl: Stiles, Lydia, Jackson, Erica, Derek

2) Relationships  
a) Fast: Scott, Allison, Lydia, Derek  
b) Slow: Peter, Stiles, Jackson, Erica, Boyd, Isaac

3) Social Personality  
a) Introverted: Peter, Derek, Boyd, Stiles  
b) Extroverted: Scott, Lydia, Isaac, Erica, Jackson, Allison

4) Breakfast  
a) Yes: Stiles, Derek, Peter, Jackson, Erica, Lydia, Isaac  
b) No: Scott, Allison, Boyd

5) Hot Beverage  
a) Coffee: Peter, Lydia, Jackson, Allison, Scott  
b) Tea: Erica, Stiles, Derek, Boyd  
c) Isaac likes both

6) Computers:  
a) PC: Stiles, Lydia, Allison, Isaac  
b) Mac: Peter, Derek, Jackson, Erica, Scott, Boyd

7) Action Movies  
a) Bond: Peter, Scott, Jackson, Allison, Isaac, Derek  
b) Bourne: Stiles, Erica, Lydia, Boyd

8) Animals  
a) Cats: Derek, Peter, Stiles, Jackson, Isaac  
b) Dogs: Scott, Allison, Boyd, Erica, Lydia

9) Comics  
a) Marvel: Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Scott, Jackson, Stiles, Derek  
b) DC: Erica, Boyd, Peter

10) Actions  
a) Think before you talk: Stiles, Lydia, Peter, Jackson, Boyd, Isaac, Erica  
b) talk before you think: Derek, Scott, Allison

Bonus: Hogwarts House:  
Gryffindor: Derek, Scott, Allison  
Hufflepuff: Isaac, Erica  
Ravenclaw: Boyd  
Slytherin: Peter, Lydia, Stiles, Jackson

It was certainly interesting to see it all laid out like that, as Stiles read it aloud for the pack. Derek had to hand it to her; some of these questions were pretty incisive. You could make pretty accurate estimations of people’s personalities from questionnaires like these. Lydia was eyeing the sheet of paper intently, like she was trying to memorize the answers. That was really not surprising. Peter was just leaning back. He looked like he wasn’t paying a lick of attention, but Derek knew that looks were deceiving with Peter. He had often looked like his mind and attention couldn’t have been further away before parroting back someone’s exact words with their exact tone from the ten minutes prior. He was probably memorizing all the information as much as Lydia was. The Betas ended up bantering about Hogwarts houses and arguing about people belonging in different places than they were while the fire died down a little.

Of course, then the wind kicked up in just the wrong direction that it blew out the fire and left all the girls except Erica shivering. Because Derek had no luck, everyone ended up migrating into his and Peter’s tent to continue chatting. On the one hand, there was communication. On the other, Derek did not want teenagers stinking up his tent with all their hormones. Stiles was still shivering even after they got inside (Lydia and Allison were cuddling together) so Derek ended up sitting cross-legged on the camp bed he was sleeping on with Stiles in his lap. He had no issue with this. But Allison and Scott had both gaped at them for an awkward moment before getting drawn into the conversation.

Derek had been planning on kicking them out before he went to sleep, but Erica and Boyd’s tent had blown into a tree and was now badly torn, Jackson’s tent was completely gone, his stuff scattered around the campsite, and Lydia and Isaac were convinced they could hear some sort of animal predator in the woods. Peter had just rolled his eyes and shook his head and Derek gave up too.

“I guess you can all sleep in here with us,” he grumbled. “Although, I am teaching you how to camp at some point. We’re a werewolf pack, not a brownie troupe.” Stiles had snickered under her breath at the situation. As everyone else figured out sleeping room, Derek started stripping for the night. Peter and Stiles joined in, although Peter then put on pajamas and Stiles slipped into Derek’s shirt. Derek ignored Lydia’s gaze on his back as he herded Stiles onto the cot.

“What are you doing?” Scott demanded, voice gone high-pitched and squeaky. Everyone turned to look at them as Derek looked over at Scott. What was he having a fit about? “ARE YOU WEARING DEREK’S SHIRT?!?”

“Yes, if I wear pajamas, I’ll be too hot with werewolf body heat and blankets. Besides, Derek wears his shirts out, so they’re all really soft,” Stiles did not seem to get the problem any better than Derek was at the moment, so at least he wasn’t stupid. Scott was still staring though and Allison had joined him.

“You’re sharing a cot, it’s concerning him because of Stiles’ reputation and perhaps her honor,” Peter clarified.

“We’re just sharing a sleeping space,” Stiles grumbled.

“It’s not a big deal,” Derek added irritably. “Stop staring like there’s a Velociraptor attack.”

“You’re giving him a complex,” Stiles muttered sleepily.

“Go to sleep,” Derek grumbled fondly. Stiles obediently settled down, burying her head in his chest. Jackson shook his head.

“Never not weird,” he murmured.

“Hypervigilence,” Peter commented. “She has to feel safe.”

“She feels safe around Derek?” Scott asked with disbelief.

“Shut up, Scott,” Lydia snapped. “He’s saved her life a fair few times while you were busy elsewhere. It’s reasonable.”

“It’s more than reasonable.” Peter sing-songed under his breath. Derek glared at his uncle.

“You go to sleep,” he ordered. Peter just raised his hands in a false show of innocence and settled onto his own cot. Isaac quietly scooted his sleeping bag to just next to Derek’s cot. Stiles turned her head to glance down and then shifted around so her hand was hanging down off the cot. Isaac took her hand, lacing their fingers. Derek stretched down and ruffled Isaac’s hair. Everyone slowly settled down, Lydia putting Jackson between her and Peter and Erica and Boyd between her and the tent opening. They eventually stopped talking as it got later and later and fell asleep.

Morning came early but Derek buried his face in Stiles’ hair and went back to sleep. Unfortunately, since her face was buried in his chest, that meant that they ended up being the last ones awake. Derek woke slowly, his arms tightening around Stiles. For a wonderful moment, she was all he could smell and there was a pleased growl low in his chest. She was warm and he could smell that she was wet and she was his. Then the world seeped in and Derek remembered, but not before he was rock hard himself, still tangled up with her from sleeping wrapped up in one another. Derek’s shirt was even rucked up around her hips so there were only two thin layers of cloth between her hip and his erection and nothing between her leg and one of his hands curled possessively around the back of her thigh, his hand just barely still on her leg rather than her ass. Derek made sure he kept himself from groaning aloud and grinding into her as he looked up and saw his entire pack staring at them. Then he really wanted to groan, but for a completely different reason.

“Stiles, wake up, it’s morning,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled, swatting at him.

“Literally everyone else is up but you two lovebirds,” Peter announced. Stiles jolted, startled immediately awake and on edge. Derek had to grab her to keep her from falling off the cot. He glared at his uncle. Peter, of course, just blinked back at him.

“’M alright,” Stiles murmured, pushing out of Derek’s hold and rolling easily onto her feet. Derek let her take a few steps before he sat up and reached for his own bag. He was not just standing up in front of his whole pack with a full erection. Grandma. Death. Drowned kittens. Did she have to smell so damn good? Hunters. His erection disappeared about as quickly as it arrived and Derek chased everyone out so he could get dressed. They had to take down the campsite soon after breakfast and hike back, because they all had other responsibilities, but he felt like the pack was a little more tightly bound than before, their differences tentatively bridged. Hopefully it would continue in that manner now that the precedent was set. They needed to be a unified force with all the ridiculousness being attracted to Beacon Hills at the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

(Sat.) November 18, 2011 (at the very end of season 3B/ last quarter moon)

Because of the Nogitsune and all the disaster that had come with that, including Allison having to be rushed to the hospital after being stabbed by one of the Oni and Chris’ resulting explosion of temper, the pack needed another bonding session. Chris was not too keen on Allison being in danger, which Derek could understand, but it was Allison’s decision; the Sheriff was blaming Stiles’ possession on the pack; Melissa just wanted to be in the loop. Therefore, they were all coming to bonding night at his loft as well.

Peter and Isaac had helped him cart the beds into the living room and they had set up camp beds that Peter had picked up as well, so everyone would be in the same room all night. Stiles had given another dose of power to the wards to strengthen them the night before, so theoretically nothing would be able to get to them. Isaac was still nervous, as they all knew that there was still something out there prowling, but Peter and Derek had faith in their emissary.

Peter counted off the beds. “Bed for you, bed for me, bed for Isaac, bed for Erica and Boyd, cot for Jackson, bed for Lydia and Allison, cot for Scott, cot for the Sheriff, cot for Melissa, since she unfortunately won’t share with me…”

“PETER!” Derek roared. Peter got the point.

“And we have a camp bed for the Hunter, because we’re insane,” he quickly finished.

“Derek and Isaac aren’t insane, though I can’t speak for you,” Stiles answered as she let herself in. Her father was right behind her.

“Stiles,” Derek grinned at her, “Sheriff.” He did have to keep as best on her father’s good side as he could.

“I brought soda,” the Sheriff hefted the grocery bags in his hands.

“In the kitchen,” Peter replied smoothly, “I can take those for you…?”

“No, just show me where to put them.” They went off to the kitchen. Stiles wrapped Isaac in a hug and Derek smoothed his hand down her hair. Then Stiles turned in Isaac’s arms to pull Derek into a group hug. Stiles smelled tired and run-down but healed and recovering as well.

“How are you sleeping?” Derek couldn’t keep himself from murmuring into her hair, “You smell tired.”

“I am tired. I sleep, but in spurts,” Stiles admitted. Isaac’s arms tightened around her for a second before he stepped back. Derek followed suit before her father could walk in.

“Still having nightmares?” Derek asked quietly, while Isaac backed away behind her, giving them the illusion of privacy.

“I don’t remember them, but I think that’s what wakes me up, yeah,” Stiles replied equally softly.

“Have you talked to someone about sleeping pills? You can’t run on empty and I’m sure your ADHD doesn’t help you get to sleep.” Peter and the Sheriff were heading back into the living room, but Derek didn’t turn. Stiles was his priority.

“What are you two chatting about?” her father interrupted before she could answer him. His voice was hard and when Derek looked up, he was glaring.

“He was asking about my sleep because I smelled tired,” Stiles’ voice was equally hard and angry.

“I’m sorry my proximity to your daughter made you uncomfortable,” Derek cut Stiles off before she could get started on a rant that would not help anything. “She’s part of my pack and a pack takes care of their own. You shouldn’t assume that one of us being in close physical proximity to her is any sort of threat.”

“It looked like you two were too close, not that you were a threat,” the Sheriff snapped back.

“Calm down,” Peter said soothingly. “Derek was just talking to her. Wolves have a different concept of personal space than humans do in the Western world. Besides, you were the only one in the loft that couldn’t hear the entire conversation. If Derek was the kind of person to put the moves on a seventeen year old, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it when everyone could hear him.” Everyone was silent for a moment. Stiles was cringing and Derek was wincing and Isaac was poised to run for cover if the Sheriff started any sudden movements. Peter was just waiting calmly.

“That’s strangely comforting,” the Sheriff finally replied.

“Alpha!” Erica called as she and Boyd let themselves in. Derek quickly had an armful of his only female Beta.

“Hey,” he greeted, ruffling her hair.

“Hi everyone,” Boyd was calmer, getting the door closed and crossing to introduce himself to the Sheriff before he scented Isaac and Peter.

“Hey!” Allison announced her presence, letting herself in, probably with Lydia’s key. Thankfully Allison hadn’t taken it personally that she did not have her own key, as she was a Huntress.

“Someone better make sure I have a bed on the opposite side of the room from Peter,” Lydia commented, following Allison in.

“Hello,” Chris said quietly.

“Your bed is here, Lydia; you and Allison are sharing,” Isaac pointed it out. “And Peter’s over there in the corner.” It was nearly on the other side of the room. Lydia nodded, smiling briefly at Isaac.

“I assume I’ve got one of the cots?” Chris asked wryly. Peter nodded.

“Pick one of those,” he pointed at the trio of cots a little away from the mass of beds and cots for the pack-proper. It hadn’t been consciously planned that way, but that was fine. Chris tossed his bag on the cot farthest from everyone. The Sheriff tossed his bag on the next cot.

“I’m assuming these three are for the parents,” he murmured. Peter nodded. Stiles tossed her bag over by the sofa.

“So, about my movie marathon idea,” she grinned up at him.

“If we’re watching movies, we’re going to watch The Notebook,” Lydia announced.

“No one wants to cry, Lydia,” Isaac grumbled. Erica made a scoffing noise in agreement with his statement.

“We are not watching The Notebook,” Derek agreed.

“Fine,” she crossed her arms, pouting. Stiles just rolled her eyes.

“Drama queen,” she muttered. Derek felt a smile tugging at his lips. There was a knock at the door: it was Scott and Melissa, the only one without a key.

“I’ll get it,” Peter announced, rushing to the door. “Melissa! So nice to see you. You look lovely as always.”

“Shut up,” Scott growled, knocking the older wolf out of the way as he led his mother into the loft.

“Peter, behave,” Derek warned.

“I brought some snacks,” Melissa announced.

“Sheriff, you can help her put them in the kitchen?” Derek suggested.

“I can,” Peter grumbled.

“No,” everyone stated. Peter grumbled under his breath. The Sheriff put a hand on Melissa’s back and led her into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Stiles grinned at Scott.

“Hey everybody!” Scott was smiling too, though much less brightly.

“Where’s Jackson?” Lydia asked.

“In the parking lot,” Stiles answered. Derek nodded.

“He’ll be up in a minute.”

“How did you know that?” Chris was staring at Stiles. Derek casually stepped forward, blocking the Hunter’s line of vision. Sometimes he wished Stiles would keep her mouth shut.

“I could hear his Porsche,” Stiles sneered. At least she knew not to give herself away to the Hunter.

“It is pretty distinctive,” Lydia agreed mildly.

“Stiles has good hearing,” her father added, coming back in from the kitchen. Melissa nodded.

“So, movie marathon?” Stiles brought it up again. Derek rolled his eyes, even though a smile was tugging at his lips.

“On what TV?” Isaac grumbled, “Peter’s ancient laptop?”

“This TV,” Jackson answered from the doorway, gesturing to a large box he had set down to open the door. “You think a 60” plasma will do, Isaac, or should I have gotten the 72?” There was silence for a moment.

“That’ll do.” Isaac decided.

“I’ll hold the door for the TV.” Erica leapt over and grabbed the door. Jackson nodded at her and carried the TV in.

“Is that staying here?” Peter asked.

“If you want,” Jackson nodded. He set the box down and wrapped Stiles in a hug. “Hey, sis.”

“Hey, Jacks,” Stiles murmured.

They separated and Jackson turned to Derek, “Alpha.” Derek ran his hand over Jackson’s hair before pushing him towards Peter, who ran a hand over his son’s neck to scent him. Then, since everyone was there, there was a massive pack hug/scenting frenzy. Derek and Peter got pulled into it, but Chris and Melissa and the Sheriff were just watching from the side.

“Watch the squishy humans!” Stiles snapped from somewhere in the middle.

“Speak for yourself,” Lydia mumbled, pushing her head into Erica’s hands like a cat. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Jacks, hand me your sister,” he asked. Jackson nodded and picked Stiles up. She squealed as he hoisted her above his head. Derek let himself smile at her as he took her out of Jackson’s hands and waded out of the massive pack cuddle. “Better now?”

“Almost scared me to death, but yeah,” Stiles nodded, wriggling closer to him. Derek let himself run a hand down her hair and pull her closer, leaving his scent on her. Then he noticed three disapproving gazes on him, from the three adults who were already irritated and pushed the pack into the kitchen to get snacks and drinks, while Peter and Jackson set up the TV and Blu-ray player. Stiles put her movies in once they had it all hooked up. Allison kept Lydia quiet about the damn Notebook, promising to make it up to her later. Derek wondered if that meant they had sorted themselves out. He was not going to ask though.

Scott and Isaac ended up on the floor together; Peter was perched cross-legged on the arm of the sofa, next to Jackson; Derek was in the middle with Stiles in his lap; Boyd was on the other end, Erica sitting on the other arm with her legs over his lap; Lydia and Allison were curled around each other between him and Boyd. Chris, Melissa, and the Sheriff had dragged chairs in from the dining room.

After only half of an X-Men marathon, starting with the most recent films, as Stiles got up to switch the movies, Derek saw that Melissa was out and Chris and the Sheriff were clearly struggling to keep themselves awake. A quick glance at the clock showed it was nearer two than one. Derek cut the movies off at that point, ordering his pack to bed. They were not staying up all night. The Sheriff tucked Melissa in without waking her. Chris raised an eyebrow as the pack all took their beds without asking whose was whose and just changed into their pajamas without a second thought. Derek had handed Stiles his shirt and Stiles had it on without either of them realizing what the suddenly irate Sheriff was going to assume.

“What is my daughter sleeping in?” he hissed.

“Her alpha’s shirt,” Peter answered calmly. Jackson was slowly moving so that he was between Stiles and her father. Derek was in his boxers, but took a step forward as well. He seemed to realize he was making a spectacle of himself and calmed down, looking around the room. Then he frowned, looking over the beds again.

“Where is my daughter sleeping?” he asked, worriedly. Lydia and Allison had claimed their bed, as had Erica and Boyd. Isaac and Peter each had their own. Jackson had his cot and so did Scott. Derek and Peter exchanged glances. They had forgotten to get a bed for Stiles because she always slept with him.

“With her alpha,” Stiles quipped, climbing easily into Derek’s bed. Derek tried to hide his wince.

“What?” her father asked. Chris was openly staring at this point. Melissa was awake now, trying to figure out what, exactly, the problem was.

Jackson was the one with a coherent response. “Stiles is the only one of the pack without a good offensive weapon immediately to hand. Lydia can scream a person’s eardrums out and Allison’s a trained Huntress and the rest of us are werewolves with fangs and claws. We all sleep better if she’s guarded.”

“It’s nothing inappropriate,” Peter soothed him. “Trust me, I would have strung him up by his intestines myself if he was taking advantage of Stiles.”

“Can we all just go to sleep? Why is this a big deal? Squishy human gets the big guard dog, logic.”

“Stiles,” Derek said her name warningly. He noted absently that the Sheriff was calm again and getting into some sort of sleep pant and under his blankets.

“I know, no dog jokes,” she grinned at him.

“And move, you’re on my side of the bed,” he rejoined, gently pushing at her. Stiles crawled down the bed, letting Derek get over to his side before she snuggled up under his arm. She already smelled like him, having been wrapped in his arms on the couch for hours.

“Isaac, lights, please,” Peter asked. Isaac hopped up and hit the master switch, cutting out all the lights. Stiles rolled over, so she was facing him and curled one of her legs over his hip. Derek let his hand duck under his shirt and splay out across her lower back, holding her close. Stiles dropped off like a light. Derek heard everyone else fall asleep and when he stretched out his senses, he couldn’t hear anyone or anything prowling around outside, so he buried his face in Stiles’ hair and fell asleep.

At some point, there was a noise outside as something small collided with Stiles’ wards overhead and was flung back. Derek woke suddenly with a roar, half-shifted and braced over Stiles protectively. The rest of his pack was up at the sound. All the wolves were half-shifted and snarling. Lydia’s mouth was open for a scream. Allison had her ring-daggers in hand, possibly from under her pillow. Derek was searching with his hearing for the source of his wakefulness. Everyone was looking around for the threat. Peter figured out first that it was just something having hit the wards.

“Derek, it’s okay,” Peter told him soothingly. “We have strong wards. Nothing and no one gets in unless we let them. Calm down.” The wolves all went back to human and Lydia shut her mouth and Allison put her knives under her pillow. Derek slowly believed his uncle, breathing heavily as he retracted his fangs and claws, his eyes going back to green.

“I think it was a bird,” Stiles commented quietly, just for him. “That noise outside that woke you.”

“That’s a fear response?” Chris asked. He sounded honestly confused. Everyone turned to look at him.

“What on earth else would it be?” Peter countered.

“An aggression display?” he answered, unsure.

“And why would you be showing aggression randomly?” Peter sneered. “Could it be that you think that there’s a threat?”

“Shut up,” Chris grumbled.

“There isn’t a threat?” the Sheriff clarified, looking between Peter and Derek. They both shook their heads.

“Sorry, I heard a bird land on the wards on the roof and get thrown off. I’m just jumpy lately.”

“Well, I can’t imagine why,” Erica grumbled. “Not like there’s some shifter we can’t find in our territory. That went so well for us all last time.”

“Could have been worse,” Peter warned.

“Why do you think Derek’s jumpy?” Stiles demanded, pushing herself up and glaring at Peter.

“I need my beauty sleep, sis,” Jackson grumbled. “We can discuss birds and ask stupid questions in the daylight hours.”

“You mean morning,” Scott mumbled.

“No, it’s technically already morning,” Boyd answered. “Stiles would just tell him that, so he meant daylight hours. Now, there’s no immediate threat; we have strong wards to protect us; can we all go back to sleep?”

“We’re talking about this shifter in the morning,” Chris said, glaring at his daughter. She nodded, blushing and squirming. Lydia pulled her back down on the bed. Stiles pulled him back down. Derek let her manhandle him a bit, putting his hand back on the bare skin of her lower back, and pulling him closer with her leg flung over his hip. Her head was tucked under his chin.

“Does that look platonic to you?” Derek heard the Sheriff grumble to Melissa. There was a pause.

“I’m sure he’s not got his hands anywhere inappropriate. Derek’s a good man.”

“Yeah, man,” he muttered.

“Your daughter’s not exactly a child either,” Jackson snarled under his breath. “But there’s no need to cast aspersions.”

“I bet his hands aren’t anywhere, even though they both want it,” Erica grumbled. “I totally lost out on my last bet too. I was so sure.” Derek rolled his eyes. Isaac was trying to hold back laughter with his pillow over his mouth.

“I told you not to waste bets on before Stiles turns 18,” Boyd mumbled. “Lydia’s only giving us like three each.”

“Boyd has a point,” Derek added. “I’m not stupid. Her father is the Sheriff.” Stiles wasn’t awake enough to be paying attention.

“This is why I haven’t joined the betting yet,” Peter whispered. “I do know my nephew.”

“Please sleep?” Isaac asked softly. All the wolves nodded, settling down. Stiles questioningly made a soft noise at him. Derek just snuggled her in closer, shushing her. Stiles dropped easily back to sleep. Everyone else settled down and went back to sleep as well.

Of course, morning came early. Derek was somewhere between sleeping and waking, listening to his pack padding around and smelling breakfast cooking in the kitchen while he stayed cuddled up with Stiles. She was warm and smelled vaguely of arousal and contentment, and his erection was comfortably trapped against her stomach. Stiles, of course, was still asleep. She always slept hard. There was a bit of conversation in the kitchen, but Derek wasn’t focused on it.

“Alright, you two, time to get up,” Peter said and suddenly the blankets were gone. Derek was immediately wide awake, propping up on his arm to glare at his uncle. Stiles groaned, snuggling closer to Derek in an attempt to get away from the cold air.

“Was that necessary?” Derek demanded.

“Yes, it’s time to get up. The Sheriff and Melissa have to leave for work soon and Chris is heading out after breakfast too. You can’t be a slug-a-bed.”

“I’m cold,” Stiles stated piteously, head turned to pout at Peter. He shrugged at her.

“Get dressed, then,” he told her. Derek took a deep breath. He could not kill his uncle in his loft: he would have a hell of a time getting rid of the body. It would also probably get the Sheriff fired again if he was present and Derek didn’t go to prison.

“Why is your hand on my daughter’s back?!” Apparently the Sheriff was out of the bathroom, then. On the plus side, his morning wood was no longer an issue. Derek pulled his hand out from under his shirt and pushed Stiles back a little so they were no longer curled together like lovers.

“I was sleeping,” Derek grumbled. Stiles made an irritable sound in distaste.

“I am cold,” she mumbled. Derek looked over to see a glare still directed at Peter. Derek got up and tossed the blankets back up to Stiles, who wrapped herself in one before she stood up. Derek went upstairs to get dressed and go through his usual morning routine, spending a few extra minutes on his hair than the days he wasn’t expecting Stiles. He was honest with himself, and he did make sure he had on something nice and looked put together when she was around, even if he just put on tight jeans that had gotten him laid and worn Henleys that got him double-takes in a crowded club sometimes. Today was one of those days. No one would be able to claim that jeans and a Henley were inappropriate for a day around the house, but Derek knew Stiles liked him in green. Werewolves had an advantage there and Derek used it.

By the time he was back downstairs, everyone was crowding around the huge dining room table. Scott and Isaac were quietly bickering over the bacon; Erica and Boyd were making plans for the day; Allison and Chris were discussing the were that no one knew where it was. Stiles was even dressed and semi-awake, but she still had the blanket draped over her chair and her shoulders. Derek kissed the edge of her jawbone wetly as he leaned over to get a plate of food. Then he was going to scent everyone in the pack before he felt Stiles’ hand fist in his shirt, tugging him back. She licked up his jaw before letting go. Derek’s knuckles were rubbing the scent into his skin before he had control of himself.

“See, Stiles, that’s why you don’t lick people, they don’t like it and they wipe it off,” the Sheriff chided. Stiles just turned to look at him without saying anything. Derek could feel heat in his ears and just went back to scenting his Betas. He could feel someone’s gaze on him but he was hoping it was Peter sniggering behind his hand.

“I think he was rubbing the scent in,” Chris commented quietly. All conversation stopped. It was very quiet.

“Huh?” the Sheriff was gawking at the Hunter.

“Wiping at a scent with your hand doesn’t get it off; it grinds the source of the scent into your skin. To get it off, you have to wash with good soap.” Chris shrugged. The Sheriff had turned to Derek with a question clear on his face. Derek knew better than to try to bluff too much with a cop. They were usually good at reading people’s faces.

“It’s a pack thing,” he decided on. That was true to an extent.

“Stiles is human so she loses scent faster than the wolves and Derek’s the alpha. It bothers him the most,” Peter added. Derek sent him a small smile over the Sheriff’s head.

“We’re all pretty touchy-feely,” Isaac agreed. The Sheriff calmed down and finished his breakfast. He and Melissa had to head out soon after that, for work. Scott had a shift with Deaton as well. Chris took Allison and Lydia with him, as he did have a day job, even if it was on his own schedule. Erica and Boyd went out for the day. Peter and Isaac and Jackson cleared the living room while Stiles helped Derek clean up the kitchen. Eventually everyone had left but Peter.

“You need to be more careful around the Sheriff. He’s not completely stupid. We may have saved your ass with BS about alpha instincts, but he’s gonna see through that pretty quick if he wants to be really part of the pack,” Peter warned him.

“I know, I know…” Derek groaned. “I just don’t think about it. She’s an adult in my head. If she’s comfortable with sleeping in my shirt in my bed, whose business is it? But her father still sees her as a child.”

“Just be careful. You don’t want any pre-existing problems with him when she ends up pregnant before she’s finished college,” Peter added.  


“She’s already been on the pill,” Derek told him.

“Yeah, and how well is human hormone control going to hold up against an alpha’s knot?” Peter demanded. “You might as well accept it now. You’ll be up with the baby so she can sleep until she graduates.”

“There are worse fates.” Derek smiled. Peter nodded.

“I have some errands to run, just wanted to tell you that privately first,” he said. Derek nodded. Peter walked out the door. Derek knew that he needed to be more careful but what he was doing now, what he was holding himself back from doing, was taking more self-control than it probably should have been.


	6. Chapter 6

(Sat.) 13 April 2012 (post-season four/ last quarter moon)

For once, Derek had the house to himself until the evening. The Betas were all doing something without him for once, and Derek was too glad they were friends to be annoyed at being pointedly not included. Peter was out of town until he got back for the pack meeting that night. So Derek had put on a pair of old, thin sleep pants and an old, comfy Henley, all stretched out and well-worn, because he had literally no one to impress. He had turned the air off and just opened the windows, glad to be back in the woods with the right smells around.

He had just finished his shower after a lazy workout and was debating when Peter would get home and whether or not to stream some porn onto the television as his afternoon entertainment when he heard Stiles’ Jeep and that fell firmly into the not-happening category. He spared a minute to be glad that he had even put clothes on after his shower before groaning down at what he was wearing. His hair was still damp and he certainly did not look put together. Of course she came over now.

“Derek?” she called out as she half-fell out of the Jeep.

“Inside,” he called from the window, leaning out a little. Stiles turned at his words and grinned at him, waving. Derek waved back, like the dork he desperately pretended not to be. Then they were both walking towards the door and met vaguely in the middle.

“So…” Stiles trailed off, mildly nervous and biting at the inside of her lip. Derek raised an eyebrow at her. She just made a weird motion with her mouth, pulling her lips in and moving her jaw.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I… um…” Stiles winced. “This was a lot easier in my head.”

“That happens,” Derek nodded. He did not think this was going to go well, whatever this was. “Do you want a drink or to sit down or both?”

“A drink,” she answered.

“Coke?” Derek asked, making his way to the kitchen. Stiles fell in behind him with an absent humming sound. He took that as a yes. She paused behind him in the kitchen as he grabbed a bottle out of the fridge. When he turned around, she was staring intently at him. Derek held the bottle out like a question or a peace offering. Stiles started towards him.

“I really hope I haven’t been reading this wrong,” she muttered to herself. Suddenly she was fisting her hand in his shirt and pulling him down and they were kissing. Her mouth was slick and hot and Derek had this feeling that he would never get enough. Derek didn’t know when his eyes had drifted closed or he had dropped the soda, but it was hissing menacingly from the floor as he pulled her up into his arms, her long legs wrapping around his waist while his hands cupped her ass. Finally Derek dragged his head back, away from her lips. Stiles let out a little breathy sigh, eyes slowly blinking open.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but how did this happen?” Derek asked. “You were trying to say something and then I got two armfuls of you. Not that I’m complaining, but it sounded important.”

“Since I hadn’t said anything yet, how would you know if it’s important?” Stiles asked with her hands loosely linked on the back of his neck.

“You were nervous,” Derek shrugged. “If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t have been nervous.” Stiles nodded.

“Fair enough.”

“So… what was it you wanted to say? Or ask, I guess.”

“Um…” Stiles blushed. “I wanted to say that I…” Her mouth drew up into a pout as her brow wrinkled in concentration and Derek was kissing her again before he even consciously registered the idea. Stiles was the one to pull back after a moment that time. “No, I should say this…”

“Okay, just say it,” Derek told her. He had an idea where this was going and it was much more optimistic than where he had thought when she walked in.

“This is going to sound stilted, but it’s better than childish or too heavy, so… I have romantic feelings for you and I’m really hoping I’m not wrong in thinking they’re reciprocated.” Her words tumbled out quickly once she got started. Derek grinned at her.

“You aren’t wrong,” he assured her. “Though you were also right about sounding stilted and formal.” He smirked at her.

“Well, “like” is childish and “crush” is awkward and “love” is too heavy for a first kiss,” Stiles replied grumpily. “English has failed me.”

“Are you sure?” Derek asked. He knew he loved her. Was that “heavy”? It made him feel light.

“Uh… about which part?” she asked, heart speeding up again.

“Love being too heavy,” Derek answered. “We have known each other a while. It’s not like we just met.”

“We’ve known each other for over a year,” Stiles concurred.

“So… how is it heavy?”

“I… Everything I’ve ever read says don’t come on too strong,” she retorted. “A lot of people think love is a big word.”

“I’m a werewolf. You’re pack. Love is not a scary concept.”

“So… how did we get on this tangent again?” Stiles asked. Her mouth was screwed up in that pout again. Derek felt his heart speed up with a quick rush of nerves. He knew what the answer had to be: the truth, finally.

“I’m in love with you, Stiles.” Stiles’ heart skipped a beat and the smile that spread over her face was blinding.

“I love you too,” she murmured softly. Derek caught her lips in a quick, chaste kiss. Then Stiles was tilting her head and opening her mouth and it was suddenly just as heated as the first two. Derek groaned softly, turning and walking over to the counter and planting her there so he could get his hands properly on her. Stiles’ thighs rippled as her legs tightened around him, keeping him close. As if he had any intention of going anywhere. Derek’s hands ran up her sides, over her shirt, cupped her jaw, one curved to cover the back of her neck, gently squeezing, while the other slid back down her torso, fingers brushing feather-light over her breasts. All the while, their kisses never stopped. Derek dragged his fingers back up her breast before cupping it, gently kneading it, and Stiles let out a wanton moan, her hips grinding up against his.

“God, girl, stop it,” Derek whined against her lips. Stiles made a slight huff with questioning eyebrows. “Our first time is not going to be in the kitchen. There should be a bed, at least.”

“So take me upstairs,” Stiles retorted. Derek immediately put both of his hands on her waist, pushing her back slightly.

“What?” he asked.

“Take me upstairs?” Stiles repeated herself, suddenly unsure.

“You want to have sex with me right now? We literally just kissed for the first time and you want to go upstairs?” Derek was incredulous. What was she here for? She hadn’t lied when she said she loved him, but this was not what he considered a normal pace for a relationship.

“Don’t sound so judge-y,” Stiles grumbled.

“I’m not judge-y, just concerned that you know what you’re saying,” Derek replied. “I don’t want you to rush. If you really want to have sex, I’m not going to turn you down, but it has to actually be what you want.” Stiles blinked at him for a minute, clearly thinking it over. God, was he not going to turn her down.

“I’m pretty sure I want to have sex with you right now. I think the part that isn’t sure is just nerves. But I know I want to be naked in your bed in the very near future, so can you work with that?” Stiles was blushing even as she gave him a salacious leer. Derek chuckled as he nodded at her.

“Yeah, I can work with that,” he agreed. “You want to walk or for me to carry you?” Stiles tilted her head as though thinking.

“Carry me,” she grinned. She tightened her arms around his neck as he picked her back up off the counter. His hands slid down to cup her ass again as he took the back stairs up to his room. Thankfully he had left all the doors open upstairs for a cross-breeze so he just had to shoulder the door a little wider to get into his room. Derek dropped her lightly on the bed. He could feel his eyes flash at her at the knowledge that, finally, she was in his bed for something sexual.

“Where do you want me to start bothering you about your comfort level?” Derek asked. “Obviously you’re okay with kissing and some petting, but…” He didn’t want to spook her.

“Um…” Stiles bit her lip. This was obviously not quite how she had envisioned this but Derek was going to be responsible about this. She was not a one-time thing and he cared about her too much not to be careful with her.

“Do you want me to ask before I take your clothes off or just before I try something new or just before sex proper?” Derek gave her options to narrow her focus. Stiles was looking a mite overwhelmed.

“Before anything new,” Stiles decided with a little nod. Derek nodded back.

“Sounds good.” He smiled at her. “Would my clothes coming off first make you more comfortable or less comfortable?” He could lead her by the hand for her first time. As cave-man as it sounded, he was glad she was unsure and fumbling and new to this.

“Just your shirt right now,” she mumbled quietly. Derek peeled it off and tossed it aside. Stiles’ eyes went wide and dark. Derek smirked darkly down at her. This was going to be fun. Stiles’ hands stretched towards him, “Come here.” Derek followed instructions, crawling onto the bed and gently cupping her face, bringing her lips up to meet his. Derek knew if he kept this up, both their lips would be chapped and kiss-swollen, despite his healing, and Stiles was going to have beard-burn, but he really didn’t care. Her hands trailed lightly over his muscles, unsure and sweet. Derek had no such uncertainty about what to do with his hands. He had gotten them on bare skin, running up her thighs and pulling her close around her waist and squeezing her neck just tight enough to get a slight gasp instead of an inhale, and he knew his grip was tight.

Stiles pulled back from the kiss as she peeled her shirt off. His expression must have distracted her as he had to untangle her fingers from her shirt while he was leaning forward to get his mouth on her skin. There was a slight ripping sound, but Stiles didn’t seem to have noticed, so it was probably just a couple stitches popping or catching on his claws. Stiles let out a loud moan in the quiet as he sucked, maybe a little hard, on the fragile skin at her collarbone. Derek heard a pleased growl rumble out of the back of his throat. Stiles’ grip tightened hard enough to leave a quick bruise on his shoulders, her body rolling up towards him. Oh, that was nice. Derek trailed wet, sucking kisses across her collarbone and then down over the tops of her breasts. Stiles’ grip had tightened to a much more enjoyable pressure as she grabbed onto his arms and walked her hands onto his back with quick squeezes. Derek dipped a little lower to trail softer kisses down her stomach and Stiles’ hand fisted in his hair, tugging a little. That was nice. Her hands immediately retracted at whatever sound he had made, but Derek quickly put them back.

“That was a good sound,” he assured her. He dipped his tongue into her bellybutton and was rewarded with a short, harsh tug on his hair and a high, keening moan from Stiles. Derek trailed kisses back up her torso, hands coming up and pulling her bra straps off her shoulders.

“Yes, off,” she murmured. Derek happily pulled her bra off while sucking at her neck. Stiles’ hands only left his hair for the briefest moment before returning. She clearly took suggestion well. Derek busied himself sucking a hickey onto her breast, absently enjoying the scalp massage of Stiles pulling his hair. “Are you giving me a hickey?” she demanded after a long moment. Derek looked up at her with a devilish smirk. He was. “What if my dad sees?”

“You’re eighteen now, and why would your dad see a hickey here?” Derek gently pressed a finger on the bruise already forming. Stiles rolled her eyes.

“Just…” she trailed off.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, suddenly concerned again. He knew full well that body signals were not always reliable indicators in bed.

“No,” Stiles was certain about that.

“Good,” Derek smiled. While he was thinking about it… “If we have sex, do you want me to knot you?”

“What?” Stiles was now confused. “That’s a thing?” Derek winced at himself. This clearly needed to have been a conversation much earlier than now.

“Yeah. It’s a thing.” This conversation was probably going to get distinctly un-sexy in seconds.

“A born wolf thing? Scott never asked me about it.” Yup, there it was: erection seriously flagging.

“No, it’s a you-have-to-do-it-on-purpose thing,” Derek explained. “I keep forgetting that you didn’t get the same information I did growing up. It can be to help someone get pregnant, but it’s mostly a bonding thing. It forces physical proximity and it causes the male brain to release the same chemicals that the female brain does during orgasm. A lot of supernatural women prefer that a were knot them the first time they have sex, because it evens the playing field, but some hate the idea because it can be uncomfortable.” Stiles was staring at him, eyes unfocused, thinking. Derek sat back and let her think. He did not want her to feel pressured. After a moment, she blinked and her gaze focused on him again.

“Yeah, I want you to knot me,” Stiles nodded. She was decided.

“It’ll be most comfortable for both of us afterwards if I’m behind you when I cum,” Derek added. “Just so you know.”

“That’s fine,” Stiles nodded. “I mean, it makes sense, I guess.”

“Seriously, love, no pressure.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” With that exchange, it was clear that Stiles had decided that she wanted to have sex with him right then. Instead of vague make-out type kissing, Stiles was set on getting both of them naked. Derek managed to re-direct her from going directly to sex by licking her clit, which would have been awkwardly unsubtle if Stiles had any more experience than she did. He knew she couldn’t be wet enough, relaxed enough to actually be physically ready. He was not a pre-teen and his cock had some girth to it. Stiles, of course, just fisted her hands in his hair and let him take control again. Derek got her whimpering and moaning and making wonderful soft, needy sounds as he fucked her with his tongue, occasionally flicking his tongue or his thumb over her clit just to revel in the full-body shudder and high-pitched keening. After a moment he added a finger with his tongue, adding another after she was acclimated to the first.

“Now… please,” Stiles begged, voice rough already. Derek gave in. She was ready enough. He crawled up her body, dragging wet kisses up her torso. Stiles was making soft whimpering noises in vague protest. It was hot. He drew his fingers across her swollen, red lips and Stiles’ tongue flicked out, lapping at his fingertips. Derek’s eyes almost closed as he groaned. Then she was suddenly sucking his fingers into her mouth, his fingers that were still covered in her slick, and he was the one shuddering. He knew his eyes had shifted, as her face had shifted suddenly into even sharper definition, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. Stiles was just staring up at him in complete awe and sucking on his fingers without any prompting and who cared if his eyes were green or red? Certainly not him.

“Bite down if it hurts,” he murmured. Stiles made a vague noise of agreement. Then Derek lined himself up and slid inside her. She was still pretty tight but slick and easy and hot. Stiles’ mouth opened into a perfect O and Derek whined. She was perfect.

“You’re… I…” she trailed off with a soft groan.

“You alright?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, a chuckle in her tone. She wrapped her legs around his waist. “I was given to understand there’s usually more movement involved in sex than this.”

“It’s considered rude not to check in that you didn’t hurt your partner before you start moving,” Derek replied. Stiles grinned, a mischievous look in her eyes.

“I didn’t bite you,” she quipped. Derek grinned back at her. He snapped his hips, hard. Stiles’ breath caught in her throat. Her eyes dilated to black.

“Better?” he teased, slowly thrusting and grinding against her clit with each one. Stiles whined as she nodded. One of her hands was clinging to his shoulder, her nails digging in. The other was on the back of his neck, just holding; a mirror of his own. Her legs were no longer wrapped around his hips, instead her thighs were clinging to his waist, moving with him. It was perfect and wonderful and better than all his fantasies, even with reality barging in of him being able to smell and hear far beyond the cocoon they had made of the bed. Stiles pulled him closer by the neck and it didn’t trip any of his instincts, for once; he just kissed her, neither of them closing their eyes. Derek couldn’t look away from her and it seemed Stiles felt the same. Then her eyes rolled and a scream tore out of her throat as she clenched around him. Derek was lost. Suddenly he was mid-orgasm, howling, his knot popping and keeping him, and all his cum, locked inside her. Derek collapsed on her, mouthing at her temple. Stiles was just sprawled, spread-eagle under him, breathing slowly while her heart slowed from hummingbird-fast to normal.

“I thought you said behind was easier on both of us,” she murmured.

“I made you cum,” Derek mumbled back.

“That made you cum?” Stiles asked, soft, unsure.

“God, if you could have seen yourself, you’d understand.” He drew his fingers through her hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she was blushing and nearly ducked her head on him. “How long is this going to last?”

“More than an hour but less than two,” he answered. “It depends on your emotional connection and some genetics. Longer knots just run in some families. Other families think that half an hour is a long time to be knotted.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded. “I’m sleepy. So, I’m going to go to sleep. Wake me up before you get up though. I do not want to wake up to an empty bed.”

“I wouldn’t be going farther than the bathroom,” Derek assured her. Then he rolled them over so she was on top. He could crush her if they both fell asleep in the other position. With some careful maneuvering, they got the covers over both of them. Then they drifted off. Peter would be the first one here for the pack meeting and he wouldn’t make a fuss about getting them out of bed before the rest of the pack.

“Hello? Derek? I smell you but I don’t see you,” Peter called out softly. It was enough to wake Derek. Peter was earlier than expected. He stretched a little, glancing over at the clock. Peter was not earlier than expected.

“Upstairs,” Derek replied in a strangled tone. He was still knotted to Stiles. It was coming on three hours. His knot was much smaller than it had been and would probably slip out on its own in a few minutes but this was ridiculous.

“What?” Peter called back.

“Uh… Stiles is here.”

“How did that cause that tone? Even if she wasn’t eighteen already, you know I wouldn’t care.”

“I just knotted her for three hours,” Derek squeaked, his voice broken. That woke Stiles up. She started. Peter was laughing his ass off downstairs.

“What?” she slurred.

“Time to wake up, Peter’s home,” Derek responded in a more normal tone.

“Is that him laughing his ass off downstairs?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. “Why?”

“Um, I may have been startled by the fact that he’s not early and I still have a knot. So I may have squeaked.”

“How did I not wake up before that?” Stiles demanded, pouting. Derek’s knot went down completely and he slipped out of her.

“I apparently have good luck for once,” Derek teased, pulling her into a kiss. Stiles melted into him. “Now, the pack will be here in about half an hour. I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” Stiles made a whining noise of protest but let him get up as she sprawled, naked, across the bed. Derek whined softly in protest. This was not fair. She was finally in his bed and he couldn’t have round two because he had a very inconvenient pack meeting. Damn it.

He forced himself to turn and pad into the bathroom and clean himself off. Knotting made a big mess once the knot finally went down, because there was always a lot more with a knot than without and Derek did not want to have dried spunk on himself during a pack meeting. Stiles eventually rolled out of bed and made a screech like an angry falcon. Derek was immediately back in his bedroom, looking for the threat. Stiles was holding up two pieces of fabric that looked suspiciously like her shirt.

“You ripped my shirt, in half.”

“Shit.” Derek blinked at her. “You can wear one of mine. It’s not like you haven’t before.”

“Oh my god, they’re all going to know!” Stiles exclaimed, dropping her shirt. “Like I don’t have a choice in whether or not they know my sex life.”

“So far it’s a very amusing one,” Peter commented from downstairs. “I suggest you find something to wear quickly. Lydia is only a couple miles out with Allison and Isaac and Scott are right behind them.”

“Well, the pack is almost here, so save the panic until we’re both dressed, okay?” Derek stole a kiss as he passed her to grab clean clothes. Stiles took a couple deep breaths and picked up her undergarments and shorts and his shirt and went into the bathroom herself. Derek got dressed and headed downstairs to meet the pack. Peter just ruffled Derek’s hair, smiling at him.

“I’m happy for you,” he murmured, soft enough the teenage wolves on the porch wouldn’t hear. Then they were tumbling in and Derek smirked as both Scott and Isaac froze, staring at him, their eyes slowly going up to where Stiles was upstairs in his bathroom.

“You slept with my sister!” Scott wailed in horror.

“Oh my god,” Stiles muttered upstairs.

“Fucking finally,” Isaac said, grinning at him.

“Peter, you cheated,” Lydia was glaring at him. “You had inside information. What was it?”

“Stiles may have asked me when, exactly, I was planning on getting back in town yesterday, because she wanted to talk to Derek without eavesdroppers,” Peter smirked at Lydia. “It’s called taking advantage of your resources.”

“You seriously had a bet going?” Derek was distinctly unimpressed. Surely they had better things to discuss.

“It was pack bonding,” Lydia replied. Allison nodded emphatically from behind her.

“You two were very frustrating,” she informed him.

“Yeah, Stiles being underage and me possibly going to jail was very frustrating for all of you, I’m sure,” Derek drawled, rolling his eyes.

“It was frustrating for me,” Stiles commented, slipping under his arm. Derek automatically shifted around to wrap his arm comfortably around her. She was wearing his shirt and she reeked of him, not really having cleaned up. Derek knew there was a smug smirk in the corner of his mouth. Scott was making a horrified face but Derek really could not have cared less. Everyone was varying stages of surprised and irritated by Peter having won the pot, except Jackson. Jackson came in, laughed, high-fived both of them, and informed Peter that he better have put Jackson’s name in too. Peter had, so they split the thousand dollars the pack had scraped together for the winner. Stiles was equal parts amused and irritated that there had been a bet going on her sex life. Derek wasn’t too concerned by it. He had Stiles.


End file.
